Couldn't sleep last night, so I was up all night writing.

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter. It all belongs to JK Rowling.

Chapter 6

Lunch was uneventful. Breads, meats, and cheeses were arranged perfectly on platters. Lettuce, tomatoes, and a variety of condiments lay off to the side. I put together a turkey sandwich for myself, and ate it quickly. The morning had been bad, but maybe the afternoon would be a bit better. Those classes at least seemed a bit more interesting. Defense against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration.

Professor Quirrell taught Defense. I had met him before, walking through the Leaky Cauldron on the way to Diagon Alley. He seemed nice enough, but he spoke with a stutter and was always looking over his shoulder. He wore a big purple turban wrapped around his head, which did make him look rather odd. It was clear that not everyone here made the best fashion choices.

I looked down the table at the uniforms. Girls wore skirts, long white socks, and black shoes, with a white collared shirt, a black sweater vest emblazoned with their house emblem, and a tie which was their house colors. Boys wore black trousers and black shoes, with white collared shirts and black sweater vests identical to those the girls wore, along with the house tie. Black robes were worn over them.

Then again, I thought, the teachers are the only ones who can make bad fashion choices. Us students are required to look professional.

A bit too professional. Anyone who was out of dress code would immediately have points taken from their house.

I had started into my second sandwich, this one roast beef. The food here was just so good. Crabbe and Goyle were stuffing their faces next to Draco, who was eating his sandwich much more politely. I sighed and looked up toward the head table.

Professor McGonagall, who had given me my schedule in the entrance hall earlier, taught Transfiguration. It seemed like a rather cool subject, turning one object into a completely different object, but it sounded very hard. McGonagall was a tall woman with a very stern face. Her hair was black, and kept up in a tight bun. She also seemed like a woman who was not to be crossed.

Once I finished my sandwich, I hurried to the dormitory and pulled out my books. There was still ten minutes left until class, but I didn't want to be late and, as I had discovered this morning, the school was big and it was very easy to get lost. So I set out for Professor Quirrell's classroom. I found it quickly and stood toward the back of the group of students waiting to be let in.

I had been somewhat excited for Defense, because it seemed interesting, but I quickly discovered that Quirrell's class was a joke. His room smelled suspiciously like garlic, and his turban smelled odd as well, making me wonder if he had stuffed the garment with the herb to ward off demons, particularly a vampire he said he had met in Romania. He told us that he had gotten the turban as a thank-you gift from an African prince for disposing of a troublesome zombie, but I wasn't sure I believed him. When Finnigan had eagerly asked for a description of his battle with the zombie, Quirrell had avoided the question and began nervously talking of the weather.

As I left, Quirrell called after me, "G-good job today, P-P-Potter."

I couldn't find the Transfiguration classroom and showed up ten minutes late. McGonagall looked at me sternly and offered to transfigure me or my bag into a pocket watch. I sat down quickly, blushing. Weasley sniggered and I shot him an angry glare, which shut him up immediately.

"As I was saying," McGonagall said, picking up where she had been before I had wandered in, "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Everyone sat up slightly straighter. She waved her wand impressively and turned her desk into a pig and back again, which made everyone very excited. However, we quickly discovered that that kind of transfiguration was much more advanced. We were given matches and told to turn them into needles. Granger was once again the closest to succeeding, and McGonagall showed off her work, which was a strange mixture between a match and a needle (the match had become all pointy and silver).

At the end of the day, I fell asleep immediately, before any of the other boys were in the dormitory. I slept much better, seeing as I didn't have the insults of the others to dwell on.

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