At six o'clock the next morning, Percy the Prefect prowled the halls of the boys' dormitory. "All students have precisely thirty minutes to get cleaned up and dressed in the appropriate Hogwarts attire," he called out in a loud, clear voice. "At that point, we will meet in the common room, and I will escort you to the Great Hall for breakfast. I suggest you don't dawdle – the time will pass more quickly than you realize."

Harry and Ron got into their uniforms as quickly as they were able. They dashed to the Gryffindor common room, and within five minutes, Percy made his way to the front of the room to lead the students downstairs for breakfast. "Everybody follow me," he barked. "Again, be mindful of the stairs."

When they got downstairs, Harry and Ron took their seats near the end of the table, along with their fellow first-years Seamus Finnigan – a silly dark-haired Irish boy, Dean Thomas – a friendly boy of Caribbean descent, and Othniel Gates – a quiet Muggle-born boy with messy, curly russet hair and wore glasses thicker than Harry's. Seamus and Dean were chuckling about their hopes of learning some explosive spells, while Othniel was skillfully working a Rubik's cube.

Although the breakfast they got was far simpler compared to the feast they had the night before, it was still a tasty meal – crispy bacon, eggs over easy, and toast-with-jam. Not long after Harry and Ron ate their fill, Harry's ears caught the most beautiful sound – the sweet giggles of the very first student he befriended, Daphne Greengrass.

"Hiya, Harry!" she squeaked, as she daintily sat down on Harry's left side. "How are you?"

"Good morning, Daphne," Harry replied, unable to help the grin he had on his face. "Am I glad to see you!" Ron rolled his eyes and took a swig out of his pumpkin juice.

Daphne giggled. "Are you excited for your first day of class? D'you mind if I see your schedule? I'd like to see which classes we share, and if we have any free periods together."

Harry nodded, and produced a parchment from his robe pocket. He handed it to Daphne, who already had her class schedule out. "Hmm," she said. "It looks like we have Flying, Potions, and Charms together, and we share a late-morning free period on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."

"Great," replied Harry. "Would you like to use our shared free periods to study together in the library?"

Daphne smiled radiantly. "I was rather hoping to do that myself."

"And perhaps if we're caught up with our schoolwork, we can, erm, y'know… like, go on walks together outside if the weather's nice," continued Harry in a quieter voice.

"Of course, Harry," murmured Daphne. "While I'm a little disappointed that we're not housemates, we still have plenty of opportunity to spend time together. There's always time after class and on the weekends too." She then leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear. "Between you and me, the hat really seemed to want me to be in Gryffindor. You're in a good house, Harry, and I'd be happy to be in it with you, but Greengrasses are traditionally Slytherins, and I didn't feel like breaking that tradition. I hope you understand."

Harry nodded. "I don't think any less of you, Daphne. You're a good person and you'll represent your house well. I wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of being sorted into Slytherin personally, but I s'pose I'd have been okay with it because I'd have been your housemate. But the hat also said that I wasn't exactly Slytherin material, and that most of my family ended up in Gryffindor anyway."

Daphne smiled. "Would you like to go with me to the library and perhaps get a head-start on Potions together before lunch?" she offered. "It's our first shared class, and most Greengrasses are quite skilled with Potions."

"That's fine," Harry said. "Where should I meet you?"

"Just meet me by the Great Hall entrance after you're done with your second class," replied Daphne. "I'll show you where to go – it's not hard to find at all." She then gave Harry a rather stern look. "Now, please pay attention in Transfiguration. Your house head, Professor McGonagall, teaches that class – and from what I understand, she is difficult to impress. You'll want to stay on her good side, but that shouldn't be too hard to do as long as you pay attention, take good notes, and put in an honest effort. She's firm, but fair." She smiled warmly at Harry. "You'll do just fine, Harry."

With that, Daphne excused herself, and returned to the Slytherin table. Several minutes later, all of the houses stood up from their tables, and the prefects shepherded them back to their dormitory areas so they could grab whatever materials they needed for their upcoming classes.

Ron and Harry made it to Transfiguration with only a minute to spare. They took their seats third from the front – behind Hufflepuffs Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott, who appeared to have struck a friendship of sorts. Harry smiled at Neville and Hannah, both of whom returned the smile. Ron was simply staring off into space.

At eight o'clock sharp, Professor McGonagall made quite the entrance. A brown-grey tortoiseshell cat sitting on a desk jumped down, and instantly morphed into the familiar green-clad witch they saw the evening before at the Sorting Ceremony. The childrens' eyes bulged at this advanced display of magic.

"Welcome to Transfiguration, students," Professor McGonagall said in an even tone. "Transfiguration, at its core, is the transformation of an object or even a being into something completely different. For example, transforming a muskrat into a frying pan." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Do not confuse Transfiguration with Charms, which is only a distantly-related discipline of magic. That is the art of taking an item and modifying its existing properties – so a candlestick would still be a candlestick, but it could float in the air."

She slowly stepped forward and continued her speech while making her way down the rows of desks. "Make no mistake, I have high expectations for each and every one of you. Transfiguration can be a dangerous art; particularly the more advanced spells, so I urge you to pay close attention, take good notes, and ask relevant questions if need be. I do not tolerate tomfoolery – if you do not take my class seriously, then you will be asked to leave and not return."

The students were a bit disappointed to find out that there wasn't much actual magic happening in their first Transfiguration class, as they had to learn the Transfiguration alphabet and theory before actually attempting any spells, but Professor McGonagall did make a couple of quick demonstrations to whet her students' appetite. She assured them that it would not be long before they would attempt their first transfiguration spells themselves – it would not be anything too complicated, but it would be at least something to get their feet wet.

Their next class was History of Magic, with the spectral Professor Binns. Harry and Ron found the class dreadfully dull, as the way Professor Binns droned had a tendency to put students to sleep. His dronings were monotonous and methodical. Harry at least was able to stay awake, but only barely. He noticed that the ghost was reciting the text verbatim – Harry thought he'd be better served getting some Muggle ear-plugs and reading the material at his own pace. He had to nudge Ron a couple of times to keep him from drifting off. Seamus and Dean were snoring behind them, and Othniel was furiously tracing his finger across the lines of each page; he was clearly frustrated that Professor Binns was so methodical.

Harry wondered how Othniel was able to effectively tune out the droning spectre so effectively; Othniel didn't seem to be wearing any ear plugs. Harry breathed a huge sigh of relief when class ended – he approached Othniel in the hallway who looked like he was speedwalking, most likely toward the library, he figured. Othniel was barely taller than Harry, and not much heavier, but Harry practically had to sprint to keep up with Othniel's long strides.

"Hi. Othniel, right?" panted Harry as he finally caught up with the curly-haired lad in the middle of the first-floor corridor. "Erm, I'd like to know something."

"Oh, hello," Othniel replied in a quiet voice. "Yes, but please, call me Gates," he said. "I don't really like my first name. Or worse, what my grandmother tries to call me - Odie." He shuddered slightly. "Anyway, what can I do for you, Potter?"

Harry looked at Othniel nervously. "Okay, Gates then. I saw you speed-reading in History of Magic, and I can't help but wonder how you tuned out Professor Binns. He's dreadful to listen to!"

Othniel chuckled. "I can't agree more. When I figured out that he was literally reciting the text word-for-word, I cast a muffling charm over myself to drown out unwanted noise – including the professor's droning. I felt I could do better studying at my own pace."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Wait… you know how to cast a muffling charm?" He scratched at his scalp. "But you must have already read all the material to do that…"

"Several times over, actually," confirmed Othniel. "History of Magic is basically a glorified free period if you already know the material."

"That's all well and good, but how the heck did you get into Gryffindor?" asked Harry. "Surely Ravenclaw would've been a better fit?"

Othniel shrugged. "Studying spellbooks is merely one facet of the multi-sided die that is witchcraft and wizardry, Potter," he said matter-of-factly. "Perhaps you didn't consider the idea that perhaps I wanted Gryffindor a bit more?"

"Fair enough," muttered Harry. "Could you show me that muffling charm sometime? I think that might come in handy."

"I suppose," sighed Othniel. "I can show you tonight after dinner if you want."

"Thanks, Gates," Harry said with a curt nod. "I'll be seeing you then, I guess." He then made his way to the entrance of the Great Hall, where he saw Daphne waiting for him. She had a slightly annoyed expression on her face, and her arms were folded across her chest and her foot was tapping.

"What took you so long, Harry?" she asked.

"Sorry," sighed Harry. "I had to stop my housemate Gates in the hall after class… he apparently knows how to cast a muffling charm. He said he'd teach it to me this evening after dinner."

Daphne's eyes shot upward in thought. "Gates… Gates… I'm not familiar with him," she said, shaking her head.

"Othniel Gates? He's the crazy-smart kid with the really thick glasses and curly hair. He was speed-reading in History of Magic, and he was able to drown out Professor Binns' drones."

Daphne's face brightened. "Oh, was he the one that was sitting a couple of spots down from you at the Gryffindor table this morning? The one with that weird puzzle in his hands? He must be Muggle-born…"

"That's him… and about him being Muggle-born, that thought never really occurred to me," replied Harry. He then smiled. "Well, are you ready to head upstairs and go to the library? I'd like to get a head start on Potions."

Daphne smiled and nodded. "I take it that it's just going to be you and me this time?" she said as they made their way down the hallway to the library.

"Yeah," replied Harry. "I asked Ron earlier; he didn't seem to be interested in studying with us."

"It's probably because he doesn't like me," sighed Daphne. "He's fun to tease because he's an easy target, but he takes things a bit too personally…"

"I don't get it," grumbled Harry. "He doesn't see the good person that you are, all he sees is Slytherin green."

The two friends took their seats at a small wooden table near the back of the library. Daphne then went over some common ingredients, some various containers, and some basic concoctions. She then quizzed Harry over this new information until she was certain that he understood the information.

"Very good, Harry," Daphne whispered with satisfaction. "Professor Snape is notoriously difficult to impress, but if you keep at it, there's no reason why you can't get at least an Exceeds Expectations."

"Was he the one that was dressed in the black cloak yesterday at the feast?" asked Harry. "He seemed to look at me, and my scar actually burned for a moment. I've never had that happen before."

"Yes, he usually wears all black," confirmed Daphne. "He's also known for giving Slytherin a bit more leeway than other houses. My advice – if you find him overly critical, don't take it personally, Harry. You'll just have to take it."

Harry nodded. Great, I already have a strike against me just by being in Gryffindor, thought Harry. The two friends picked up their bags, and made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. "I'll meet you at your table in just a little bit," promised Daphne. The two friends parted ways and sat their respective tables to eat their lunch.

"So, did you and Greengrass lip-wrestle during our free period?" groaned Ron as Harry sat down next to him.

"Please, Ron," sighed Harry. "She knows what she's doing with Potions, and she offered to give us a bit of a head start. I feel a little more confident going into Professor Snape's class now than I did an hour ago… and truth be told, I think it could have done you some good too."

"I still don't trust her, mate," Ron spat. "She could be using you for all you know."

Harry glared at Ron. "Look Ron. I know you're not a fan of Slytherin, but not everyone in that house is dark. I'm not asking you to like her, but I would like for you to respect the friendship I have with her."

"How would I do that?" asked Ron.

"It wouldn't hurt for you to be civil to her whenever she comes over to visit," Harry suggested.

"I'll try," grumbled Ron as he took a bite of his sandwich.

"Thank you," replied Harry. "I'm not asking that much."

A few minutes later, Daphne stopped by the Gryffindor table to say hello to Harry. "Hiya Harry," she said with a warm smile. "You about ready for Potions?"

"I think so," replied Harry with a nod. "Hopefully what you and I went over will make things a little easier." He cleared his throat softly. "Erm, I'd like to save you a seat in class, if you're okay with that." Ron rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut.

"I'd like that Harry, thank you," Daphne said with gratitude. "I'd be delighted to sit next to you in Potions."

Harry and Daphne chit-chatted away for the next few minutes, while Ron largely stayed quiet. What he didn't admit to Harry was that while he was a little distrustful of Daphne, the fact that she was a Slytherin wasn't nearly as big a factor as he made it out to be. In reality, he was jealous of her friendship with Harry and he was beginning to feel like a third wheel. He did not know how to come to terms with these feelings, and instead of talking to Harry and Daphne about it, he decided to keep them bottled up for now.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins shared Potions together downstairs in the dungeons, taught by the infamous Professor Snape. He had a long, gaunt face with greasy black locks that hung down past his chin. His eyes were dark, but burned like hot coals. Every article of clothing he wore was black, and his voice was a deliberate, creaky drawl that didn't need to be raised to command attention.

He carefully eyed his students before proceeding to take attendance. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly when he came to Harry Potter's name.

"Well, if it isn't Mister Potter," he murmured. "Our latest celebrity." Harry was about to give Snape a sharp look, before Daphne grabbed his hand, mouthing, "don't let him get to you." Harry sighed and nodded.

When Snape finished taking attendance, he again addressed the class. "Woe be unto those who mistake Potions for being a glorified Muggle Studies course," he drawled in a low voice – not much louder than a whisper, but still able to command each student's undivided attention. "No, there is not much use for silly wand-waving here like in Charms or Transfiguration, but I assure you, it is no less magical in nature. Perhaps one day, some of you will appreciate the beauty of a 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 even show you how to bottle fame, brew glory… even stopper death… that is, if the lot of you aren't as dimwitted as those I have had in the past."

Professor Snape smirked ever so slightly when he saw the wide-eyed faces of his pupils. He casually strode over toward the desk where Harry Potter sat – right between Daphne and Ron. Snape stood over Harry, with an unnatural-looking grin on his face.

"Hello, Mister Potter," Snape murmured.

"Good afternoon, Professor," gulped Harry.

"Can you tell me, what I would get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" asked Snape.

"A... uh, a sleeping draught?" replied Harry, caught somewhat off-guard by Snape's random quizzing.

Snape smirked. "You sound a little unsure of yourself, young Potter. Was that a question, or an answer?"

"That's my answer, sir," replied Harry with slightly more confidence.

Snape nodded. "And where would I need to look for a bezoar?"

"A goat's stomach," replied Harry with more confidence still. Daphne gently squeezed Harry's hand under the desk.

Snape's nostrils flared – he was clearly flustered that Harry had answered both of his questions correctly, but he still felt obligated to give credit where it was due. "Perhaps I underestimated your prowess, Potter. Your mother was quite the talented potioneer in her day… perhaps you've inherited her talents." He paused for the briefest of moments. "Two points to Gryffindor," he muttered, with as much indifference as he could muster.

He then turned to Ron, who was trying to dislodge his quill from his nostril. Snape did everything in his power to not roll his eyes at the silly ginger.

"Mister Weasley," he drawled. "Would you, perchance, know the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood?"

Ron crossed his eyes in confusion. "Wait, what?" he asked, clearly not expecting to be called on.

"Wake up, Weasley," growled Snape. "Two points from Gryffindor for having the gall to try and have me repeat myself." He then saw Daphne on the other side of Harry, and started to prod her. "Miss Greengrass, perhaps you can enlighten us since Weasley has so succinctly demonstrated his ignorance?"

Daphne nodded. "They're the same thing, sir. It's also known as aconite."

Snape smirked in satisfaction. "Well done, Miss Greengrass. Five points to Slytherin." Harry smiled at Daphne.

The rest of the class was fairly uneventful for Harry, thankfully. He felt that perhaps that Snape gave him a modicum of respect for being able to accurately answer a couple of his questions, though the same could not be said for his housemates – particularly Ron, Seamus, and Dean. When the class was over, Snape had docked ten further points from Gryffindor while Slytherin was up fifteen.

"It's so unfair, Harry," Ron grumbled as he left the dungeons. "He makes things twice as hard on Gryffindor and hands out points to Slytherin like it's candy!"

"I'm afraid there's nothing we can do, Ron," admitted Harry. "His world, his rules."

Daphne even gave Ron a sympathetic look. "Are you sure you don't want to study with us next time, Ronald?"

Ron paused for a moment to think. "I, erm, I'll… think about it," he replied.

"Good," replied Daphne. "You boys best head off to Defense. I have Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. I'll see you this evening, okay?"

"See you later, Daphne," replied Harry.