"What intelligence for someone so young," the hat replied, "It's sad that I have such limited options to put you in. I would love to talk to you more, but Hogwarts is waiting. Wherever you go, you will be capable of greatness. Remember that power can corrupt, and that you are still human." Harry smiled, knowing that the rest of the hall would see it.

"Goodbye Harry Potter and good luck. RAVENCLAW!" Harry hopped down to the table and smiled, not noticing everyone staring at him, the whispering completely stopping.


Finally settling in his house, he lied on his bed in exhaustion. So much human interaction was too much for him. Harry Potter, the boy who lived in the cupboard under the stairs, was the just that-the boy who lived in the cupboard under the stairs. Conversations between muggles intrigued him, but he wasn't necessarily involved in the conversation. He was the observer. Whenever Petunia invited someone over, while he was cooking dinner for them and the guest, he realized. People were so gullible. The guest would usually laugh along with the Dursleys, unaware of the terror lurking behind their masks.

Everyone wore a mask.

The other Ravenclaw boys that he was bunking in with also had masks, however cringy they were. They smiled uncertainly, one trying to stop his glare from penetrating Harry on the spot. One boy, his face shining in friendliness, stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, trembling a little.

Scared? No, excited? Not enough information, Harry thought, bending forward for further observation.

The boy flinched a little and shuffled back, clearing his throat in finality.

"Hello," he said as if he was performing a speech, "my name is Terry Boot. Nice to meet you, Harry Potter. I've heard of you, of course, and it's an honor." The other boy stepped forward and smiled at Harry. The one glaring at him, well still failing to hide it, didn't move, his back stiff and waiting. He wore an expression of confusion, probably still not expecting the Harry Potter, son of two mighty Gryffindors, his fellow housemate.

"And I'm Anthony Goldstein. You're of course Harry Potter." He turned around to glare at the boy behind them, silently urging him to introduce himself.

"Oh fine," he growled, "My name is Isac Vulon, oh mighty Harry Potter. Let's hope he doesn't get too angry over the fact that some people don't care that he's famous and stuff." He stood strong, but apparently not strong enough.

"This room looks really big," Harry commented, observing the blue and bronze bed sheets. The window showed a beautiful view of Hogwarts grounds. "Wait, are we all sharing this room?" Isac huffed.

"So you think you're so much better than us that you just ignore us like that?" Harry shook his head in frustration. No! It wasn't that! It was so hard to relate to humans. He knew each one of them quite accurately. Terry Boot, shorter, but braver. Not as intelligent as the others in terms of being the one to talk first, especially to someone he probably has not much knowledge of. Yet the other boys see him as a friend, considering the small movements in trying to stop Boot from taking to him. Which would mean they already know each other, which would mean they couldn't possibly be Muggleborns. 50% chance of being either Pureblood or Halfblood, but considering their willingness to talk to him, possibility of being a Halfblood increased to 60%. Anthony Goldstein, looks up to Boot. Taller, probably stronger but too gullible. Follower type- doesn't take action himself, just follows someone else. Yet, he's more intelligent than Boot, letting Boot be the one who talks to me first. If I did something to Boot? He probably would have run away.

Isac Vulon. Not as intelligent as one would think. Already making enemies with three people, one being Harry Potter himself which would lead to more enemies. 87.6% of being a Pureblood. Probably follows everything that his family believes in, high possibility his family as connections with Voldemort. Thinks he's dangerous, well he's not. The one who has the most power at Hogwarts is the Light, and because Harry defeated Voldemort, his position in power has considerably increased.

Potential danger rate of Isac Vulon? A mere 0.21%.

He had already analysed everyone, and everything.

Ravenclaw, a majestic house, proud for it's beautiful scenery, bragging to Slytherins who live in the cold dungeons. They have a healthy mix of pride and home, probably the reason why they're so stuck in the middle of Gryffindor and Slytherin. Those in this house undoubtedly think they're the best, who wouldn't? Beautiful dorms, less fights than any other house, smarter, and not underestimated like Hufflepuff.

One would say they are truly the best house in the best position. Muggleborns, Purebloods and Halfbloods are all welcome. Harry Potter included brings their house to a new height of popularity.

He could, he could tell them. Make new friends. Have a new life.

But you tried already. Remember? You're first victims. Christians, visiting church every week, that should have been an obvious sign. What are you, stupid?

Yes he had tried already.

Wizards are the same. Prejudice, cruel and vulnerable. Prejudice, cruel and vulnerable. Prejudice, cruel and vulner-

"I'm going to sleep now. Goodnight."


"I hate him!" Amanda of Ravenclaw shoved Isac roughly as they exited the dorms in the usual crowd.

"Don't be so rude!" she retaliated with a laugh, "Seriously, who knows what he'll do? He is the-boy-who-lived after all." The rest cheered and laughed at her comment. After Harry blatantly ignoring them, their idea of a brave, handsome and sociable hero was quickly shattered, replaced with the expected cruelty of childhood bullying. It was scary how people changed so quickly, how trust was a mere tool of manipulation, many philosophers would say, their wisdom ignored for the hard truth that humanity was of a fickle thing was unnecessary to think about.

After all, who cared? Who cared if they were animals in pretty clothing, their intelligence only a facade to trick those in opposing the well known theory that they were, well, animals. It was ugly to think about, that their minds were truly black, dark, evil. Only some would embrace it, and those who would be stupid enough to be caught doing it, were shut out of society.

No use for those whose minds deluded them to thinking they were dark creatures, the Ministry would preach on.

Harry expected this, his knowledge of civilization and human ignorance already advanced to the world of the dark. He could not come back now, his hands already stained. If only their church didn't preach of such one-sided thoughts, that humans were only supposed to be...

Oh well, he said again. One with the death note and thoughts such as these would only confuse the readers, he ironically adds.

"What you're thinking?"

"Are you my friend?"

"Hyuk hyuk hyuk! Are you kidding? Oh wait, I'll be your friend if you give me-" He snatched the apple that Harry tossed to him. "Yum!"

"There is 99.99% that you don't care about me."

"Why not 100%?"

"Just useless hope." Ryuk, not knowing how to really react, just laughed.

The two continued their way to the first breakfast of Hogwarts. How utterly exciting. The Ravenclaw gang had already sat down, as did most of the children. Harry quietly sat down, far away from the others, a muggle book on psychology in his hands. The other houses noticed his distance. Slytherins smiled at the obvious bullying, Malfoy not quite knowing what to do. The Gryffindors looked at Harry with sympathy, some even considering to sit with him. The Hufflepuffs shared similar feelings of sorrow for Harry. Before anyone could decide what to do, the Headmaster greeted them with a smile, and continued his speech.

"A warning to all of you," he said, eyes landing on the Weasley twins considerably longer than the rest, "the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." His tone was grave, but the students couldn't help but wonder if he was serious. The hall was loud with whispers as Dumbledore smiled again.

"I'm sure you are all hungry. Let the feast begin!" Everyone dived into their favorite food, the amount of it ridiculous. Savory, sweet, spicy anything one could dream of. Even muggle food was given, the Slytherins not even noticing, one using a fork and knife to slice a hotdog. It was interesting, Harry thought, with wonder, and a bit disgusting, he added, watching Ron Weasley gulp down his buttered toast. Granger, who was sitting opposite to him, buried her face in her book, trying to hide her revolt.

Harry put his book away and calmly observed the hall. Only the Ravenclaws and some minority in other houses had books with them. The Slytherins had questionable books that they really shouldn't be stupid enough to bring under the watchful eyes of the Hogwarts staff. Speaking of the Hogwarts staff...

Dumbledore was right in the middle, occasionally looking down at his students in merriment, for some reason not so much looking at the Slytherins. Snape sat at his left, black robes hiding whatever he had under his sleeve, Harry thought, and for some reason his suit having many buttons. How annoying to put on every morning. McGonagall sat on his right, sitting closer to the Gryffindors she would shake her head at their antics in a motherly gesture, sometimes chatting with Dumbledore. A teacher with huge glasses and probably little importance sat next to McGonagall. She was tossing her food around and staring into her goblet of juice weirdly, muttering words of nonsense and waving her hands around. The unfortunate teacher that has the misfortune of sitting next to the professor with huge glasses seemed to be quivering with fright. He would look up to the students, and than when a student would smile back, he would look down again. He had a turban on his head and a necklace of garlic decorating his neck. He was the most weirdest out of the Professors, if you didn't count the lady next to him, and most students were coming to that agreement as well, considering the gossip going around.

Next to Snape sat Hagrid. He smiled when he saw Harry look at him and gave a wave. Harry waved back, like his parents would have, and ignored Snape, like a Gryffindor would have. It was confusing trying to keep all of these masks on. It seemed as if everyone wanted a different 'Harry' and it, in a weird way, was a fun game.

Next to Hagrid was Flitwick, Harry remembered from the House speech last night. He was a dwarfish man, and from what he said yesterday, half-goblin. It was due to his goblin-blood that he was so small, having to sit on a stack of books to see his food. He didn't even bother meeting Hagrid's eyes, knowing that he couldn't, but talked to him anyway. He looked at Harry in worry of his isolation but was quickly reassured with a handsome smile. A man dressed in not what one would cal clean clothes sat next to Flitwick, his eyes darting to each table in caution. He ignored all and petted his pet cat lovingly, while jealously looking at the magic that everyone else was using.

A Squib then. He had read it before coming to Hogwarts, making sure he knew everything. Squibs were seen as useless and was cast out of the Wizarding World to the Muggle World. No one really cared for someone who was supposed to have magic but didn't. They were a shame to many Pureblood families, some going as far as killing them in secret. Squibs weren't allowed at Hogwarts. Then who was he? A caretaker? Maybe the cleaner? Wouldn't that be even more degrading, catering to those who were considered higher than him, more powerful than him, simply better? Dumbledore, even though most wouldn't see it, appeared to be a very, in childish terms, 'mean'.

There was so much to observe, and classes haven't even started yet. He couldn't wait to test out the cruelty in children, the animalistic side of wizards and witches and how similar they really are to muggles. Voldemort started his reign to divide the Wizarding World and Muggle World so the two could never overlap, and that kind of plan derived from thinking that wizards are more superior. But Harry would disapprove that theory. He would prove that muggles, wizards, witches, everyone are just ugly monsters, with hearts as black as coal.


The first class, which Harry had decidedly was looking forward to, was Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall was a pretty good teacher, and a strict one unlike others, who knew how to keep the room in control. Unlike Astronomy which they has every Wednesday with Hufflepuff, this class was with Gryffindor. The class was divided, studious Ravenclaws hurrying to memorize everything in the book, and joyous, carefree Gryffindors. They joked around loudly as Granger turned red in anger, huffed loudly, and buried her face in the Transfiguration book she was reading. A group of girls sitting a few rows behind her laughed at her misery, pointing out how she should have been in Ravenclaw.

Many, even the Ravenclaws, watched Harry with caution, some in wonder.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. Harry watched the others in amusement. Most just couldn't keep their focus, not reading the notes just because they weren't bothered. Well, that was the Gryffindors minus Granger and surprisingly a girl at the back with Indian origin.

"Parvati Patil, was it?" The girl smiled and nodded at the teacher, her matches end metallic like a needle. "Nearly there. Good job!" A girl similar to her, her twin Harry concluded, tightened her hand into a fist as she read her notes again in frustration, determined to beat her sister.

Harry looked down at his match. It was probably time to try himself than. McGonagall caught his eye, and smiled in encouragement. Granger noticed and looked down to concentrate on hers. After trying once and not getting anywhere, he pulled a spare paper out and started drawing. Granger, who for some reason decided to move next to him, whispered.

"What are you doing? Need help, I'm already half way there." And she was. Granger was definitely a talented witch, her match halfway turned into a needle. It looked really weird, but was the most progress that anyone else in the class made so far.

"Drawing," he whispered back. Granger looked at him in confusion and for some reason anger, but before she could say anything else, class ended. While exiting McGonagall gave Granger a rare smile which Granger than smugly smirked at Harry, for some bizarre reason. It was probably the start of rivalry, which he wasn't looking forward to.

The class that most looked forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, or DADA. It was mostly disappointing though but having it with Hufflepuffs instead of loud Gryffindors and gossiping Slytherins was at least something good out of it. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. He trembled when he called out Harry's name, nearly passing out in the process.

After lunch Harry expected most to be muttering about how bad the DADA professor was. Instead they were whispering dramatically about their next class.

"Why do we have to have Potions with the Slytherins! Last year, and the year before, and the year before that Slytherins were always with Gryffindors. Why did that change?"

"Well, we are kind of lucky. You know Professor Snape doesn't really pick on Ravenclaws as much as Gryffindors."

"But he still does! And when we get something right he asks another question which he knows we'll get wrong!"

"Think about it. Double Potions. Double! Hours and hours of the same harping on about how we're supposed to be smart, but are not a smart enough as his precious Slytherins."

"Our grades! Our house points! All in the trash because of Slytherin. When we were with Hufflepuff it wasn't so bad, he gave us house points to humiliate the Puffs."

"Now we have Harry Potter. Gryffindor Harry Potter."

The group sighed, not realizing Harry standing right behind them.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. The students walked inside in silence, some Slytherins complaining about how they can't humiliate the Gryffindors anymore. The class wasn't so divided, Isac sitting next to Theodore Nott and Michael Corner sitting next to Millicent Bulstrode.

Snape dramatically entered the class, his robes billowing behind him, his expression was one of disgust. So why was one who hated Harry, probably a Death Eater and hate children too working at Hogwarts? It was either that Dumbledore needed something from him or Snape had something over Dumbledore's head.

As he was calling the roll, he paused at Harry's name. The boy with green eyes prepared himself, Ryuk laughing manically.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity." The Slytherins minus Malfoy sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. Suiting, Harry thought.

Harry thought it was best to keep silent, but as defense, brought his legs up and hugged them to his chest. Terry Boot, who out of his kindness decided to sit next to him, gave Harry a questioning gaze. Snape merely scoffed, and continued with the roll.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had caught every word- like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the 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 teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Nothing was heard after that. No one was brave, or stupid, enough to say a word.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Asphodel was a plant of the lily family, beautiful with slender leaves, ironically born on a spike. Wormwood was state of bitterness or grief. How did that have to do with Potions?

"Sad Lily. No, I feel sad for Lily. Not enough information." Snape looked at him in surprise, the rest of the class laughing at what he was saying, Boot shaking his head in embarrassment.

"Tut, tut- fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"Does that have something to do with a goat? Isn't a bezoar some kind of disease found in the stomach? Why would you want to find it?" Silence again. The Slytherins knew Harry was kind of right and the Ravenclaws were shaking their heads at his question.

"I had enough of your ignorance! Clearly you haven't bothered to even open your books if you asked such a stupid question."

"Well? Will he be the first one to kill? I find him annoying, and you do too right? Kill him!" Harry shook his head. "No."

"What was that? Detention Friday night. And if you're not there..." Curious if Snape would react weirdly if Harry was nice to him, he changed tactics. Obviously for some reason the man didn't believe he was capable of simply being shy.

"Ok sir! I'll be there don't worry!" Snape's face turned even more red, and before thing could get worse, Harry literally ran out of the class, Ryuk's words repeating themselves over and over.

"Kill him! Kill him!"


The next morning, newspapers flew down, letters and notes passed to students by owls, and those who were rich enough, eagles. Harry vaguely remembered Hagrid giving him an owl, but what was it's name? An owl swooped down, ready to peck Harry's eyeballs out.

"Hedwig, yeah Hedwig! Come here." The owl dropped the newspaper on his breakfast and grabbed his bacon, taking off. He picked the paper which was stained with tomato sauce and read the front page.

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. "But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

Suspiciously, that date was his birthday, the day Hagrid and him went to Diagon Alley, to Gringotts. It could have been a concicdence, but Hagrid was giving some letter and recieving some package, while trying to cover it up saying that it was secret and Dumbledore's business. Then Dumbledore had that speech about not going to...some corridor? To prevent a painful death.

Interesting.

But too Gryffindor. It sounded like some elaborate plan to make Harry do something. He already had so many clues. What was he supposed to do now, form a Weasley army and march up to whatever corridor it was and find whatever Hagrid had been trying to hide?

That actually sounded really...cool. And Ryuk was probably desperate to kill someone with the death note. He might even get the school to close down by killing Snape.

Fine. He'll kill someone at night today. When it's dark and everyone is definitely asleep, past curfew, he would strike. It would be easy enough, right?


So...another chapter. Sorry for the lack of killing, maybe someone dies next chapter. Harry's past with Ryuk is still unknown, and I meant no offense to Christians, just revealing some of his past.

Thanks for reading!