Chapter 23

While the students were fast asleep and dreaming in their dormitories, the House Heads faced something of a crisis.

The Headmaster, it seemed, was somewhat dissatisfied with the events of the Sorting, and had requested some "trifling alterations" to the schedules of the first years. Working out those alterations had required three hours-and counting, now.

"Never! In all my years..." Minerva's words faded into angry mutters as she tried out the various configurations. "Gryffindor and Slytherin Astronomy? No. That conflicts with the second year Charms class for-"

Snape saw Filius and Pomona giving each other significant looks.

Filius whispered, "Really, Severus! Is all this necessary? First the Headmaster wants the first years in a straightforward Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff, Slytherin/Gryffindor division, and now it's unsatisfactory? All very inconvenient, I must say."

"It's because of young Harry Potter, isn't it?" Pomona asked with smothered excitement. "Such a pleasant boy. I watched him during the feast-and after, and it seems to me he's settling in quite nicely-whether some like it or not!" Her eyes shifted to Minerva, who looked up.

"I don't deny I would have liked to have had Harry in my house, but I wouldn't have caused all this fash because he wasn't!" Minerva answered sharply. "The Headmaster says he wants him to know students from other houses: especially those "jolly Gryffindor lads." She sniffed.

Snape smirked. "Well, he'll get to know some 'jolly Slytherins,' too. There's nothing else to be done."

That was only too true. The schedule had been rewritten twice, and was still not exactly what the Headmaster was hoping for. Changing even a single class at this point knocked down other schedules like dominos. They were almost finished now, and Dumbledore would simply have to lump it. After hours of work, Harry would still have only Defense, Astronomy, and History with Gryffindor. And the only way any of this was even possible was by combining all the houses together for History.

"But that's hardly a problem, since there's no practical work requiring close supervision," Pomona comforted them. "It's not a bad schedule at all, when looked at the right way. All the first-year students will meet in class and get to know one another, and that should only be to the good, shouldn't it?"

There were reluctant nods. Even Snape was inclined to agree. He hated teaching Slytherins and Gryffindors simultaneously. House rivalry for points exacerbated the traditional hostility and led to some very dangerous behavior. Minerva had often pointed out to him that those classes seemed to bring out the worst in him. He would rather drink Amorentia than admit it, but it was only too true. It was so much easier teaching Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws. Peer pressure to behave and work hard-and the passionate desire to learn and excel-worked wonders on a classroom. He tried out the new configuration in his mind and felt some hesitant approval. Hufflepuff/Slytherin? Ravenclaw/Gryffindor? The Claws stood for no nonsense if their grades were in danger. The Hufflepuffs and Slytherins had no history of antagonism, though each sneered a bit at the other house. Hard work and ambition might make for a quiet, well-focused class. Draco would be pleased. He had wanted to partner Harry in Potions, and now, it seemed, he might have the opportunity.

"Are you very disappointed, Severus?" Pomona asked. "We all heard that you are young Harry's wizarding proxy."

Snape shrugged, coming to the decision that perhaps he had not needed that additional source of stress. He was satisfied that Harry was not a Gryffindor.

He replied, "No. After some thought, I believe it is for the best. Harry should be where the Hat placed him. He's longed for friends, never knowing wizarding children before this summer. He needs a friendly, welcoming environment. He doesn't need to be constantly reminded that he's the Boy-Who-Lived, and that much is expected of him. Treat him like the others, Pomona. He'll thank you for it."

"Yes," Minerva agreed more wistfully. "The Hat has decided. I'm sure he'll do splendidly in Hufflepuff. He'll make us all proud. But he's a very brave lad all the same," she added, with a touch of asperity.

"And a clever one, or so I'm told," Filius grinned. "He's been doing a bit of extra reading. His mother was such a splendid Charms student."

Snape nodded, sipping his tea.

Harry tried to ignore the whispers that followed him everywhere he went for the next week, once he left the safe confines of Hufflepuff territory. Girls giggled, boys swaggered, and everyone asked to see his scar. Some of the bolder girls even wanted to touch it. Harry backed away from these lunatics, and his fellow firsties closed ranks around him.

Ernie had taken Justin aside, and Susan and Hannah had done likewise with Sally, giving both newcomers to the wizarding world the full story of You-Know-Who and The-Boy-Who Lived. Both were very impressed, but everyone followed the instructions mandated by their Head of House. Harry was not to be stalked or harassed, but treated like any other Badger of the Sett.

It was not so easy, though, once beyond the door of the common room. Fortunately, Hufflepuff House was well organized, with older students mentoring the younger ones, teaching them all the halls, byways, and staircases of Hogwarts. They were warned about Peeves the Poltergeist, and instructed not to irritate the grumpy caretaker, Mr Filch.

"He can get very nasty," Cedric told Harry, as he showed the first years the way to the lecture hall used for the combined History Class.

Professor Snape had forewarned him, but Harry had found it hard to credit that their History Professor was an actual ghost. The class was incredibly boring-even though Harry enjoyed reading the textbook. Professor Binns droned on in a monotone, making even the most dramatic events as dry as dust. Harry consoled himself with seeing all his friends. Draco sat by him and they compared schedules and played Hangman when Binns began reciting the endless genealogy of the extinct goblin clan of Skauraug. It was that or a nap, certainly. Harry was disappointed, having hoped for better.

Much more satisfactory was Charms, taught by Professor Flitwick, a tiny wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. He squeaked with delight when he called out Harry's name on the roll, and toppled out of sight. The class chuckled, and the diminutive teacher chuckled as well. He seemed to know his subject, though, and Harry remembered that his mother had excelled at Charms. He hoped he would, too.

Astronomy was taught at night on Tuesdays and was a novelty of sorts. Learning the names of stars and how to identify the planets was quite interesting, though Harry found the Gryffindors the roughest of all the other students. Zach Smith made a point of bumping into Harry, just as Harry had managed to find Jupiter with his telescope.

"Sorry, Potter," the boy said loudly, not sounding sorry at all. The boys next to him, Weasley and Finnegan, snickered. Harry tried to ignore them, and had to start all over again. Finding a planet was harder than it seemed. He concentrated on focusing the instrument, and was startled a a few moments later when he heard a thud and a crash behind him.

"What's all this?" asked Professor Sinistra sharply, coming over to find Zach measuring his length on the cold floor of the Astronomy Tower.

"I'm not sure, Professor," Justin Finch-Fletchley answered. "We were observing Jupiter, and Smith must have backed up into us. Sorry there, Smith," he said kindly, offering a hand to help him up. Smith glared at the hand and the innocent faces of the Hufflepuffs, and fumbled to pick up his broken telescope.

"Stand back, Smith," said Sinistra. "I'll have it fixed in a flash. It happens all the time. Find a place-over there-and don't fidget while you're working. Use your focuser, and don't step backwards trying to get a clear view. You could trip and fall from the Tower."

Harry was looking forward to seeing Professor McGonagall in Transfiguration. She gave him a faint smile of greeting, but immediately plunged into the subject. He was not surprised at her demeanour-strict and serious. But she was wonderfully clever, and after a brief warning about the dangers of Transfiguration, she impressed the class by turning her desk into a pig and back again. This class, like Charms, included the Ravenclaws. Harry noticed Hermione hanging on the Professor's every word, her hand up and waving at every question. He noticed some of the other Ravenclaw girls looking at each other and rolling their eyes.

Their own assignment was exactly what Professor McGonagall had warned Harry it would be. They were given matches and told to try to turn them into needles. Having watched her at work and heard her explanations for the past month, he was able to grasp a bit of the theory, and succeeded in making his match silvery and pointy. The eye eluded him, but Professor McGonagall seemed pleased, and gave him another little smile.

Hermione seemed to have done as well, and spoke to him after class.

"Hello, Harry! How are your classes? Mine are so fascinating. Have you met Professor Quirrell yet? He told us about he got rid of a zombie for an African prince! That's why he wears that turban, you know: it was a thank-you present. I have Potions next. It's nice talking with you! I'll see you later!"

She was off before he managed a word. Justin and Ernie burst out laughing. Hannah and Susan tutted and shook their heads.

"Poor thing," remarked Hannah. "She hasn't a clue."

"She's all right," Sally spoke up in her little voice. "She doesn't mean any harm."

Harry got the impression that Sally felt a little left out by Susan and Hannah, who had known each other for years and were already close friends. He made a point of sitting with her, since Justin and Ernie seemed to have found common ground in their talks about their complicated, eccentric, well-to-do families. Harry had nothing to contribute to such conversations, but the boys were friendly to him, and had learned quickly not to ask him awkward questions about his own home life.

Susan said, "We know she doesn't, Sally. She's just so-I don't know-so different. She says and does such odd things. It's not that she's muggleborn, exactly. Oh, stop, Justin! You don't go gabbling at people like that. It's like she doesn't really know how to behave. Just look at the way she acts in class. She's terribly pushy and overbearing. She tries too hard. Lisa tells me she doesnt quite fit in with them."

Hannah added, "It must be very awkward. Lisa and Mandy and Padma and Morag all know each other so well, and then in comes this complete stranger -"

"-who acts like she knows all about the wizarding world, but doesn't-" agreed Susan.

Hannah nudged her. "-and who sleeps in their dormitory and goes everywhere with them. Of course it's only reasonable-she is their housemate after all-but it makes them uncomfortable. They feel she just isn't their sort."

"She probably feels the same way." Sally muttered.

Susan reached out to touch her shoulder in concern, but Sally scowled and walked a little faster.

"Wait! Sally!" Harry ran after her and gave her a smile. He murmured, "Nobody's saying that you're not our sort."

Sally sniffed, and said nothing more. Quietly, they moved on to Herbology, where Professor Sprout was delighted to see them.

After his background reading and his conversations with Professor Snape, the Defense Against the Dark Arts class turned out to be something of a joke. Harry remembered the turban and the reek of garlic and the stammer that made it hard to pay any attention at all to the timid young professor. He was reluctant to look up and meet the teacher's eyes, remembering the curious pain in his scar that he had experienced in this wizard's presence. As far as the course material was concerned, however, Harry was relieved to find that Professor Snape had been right: Harry was not miles behind everyone else. In fact, some of the work seemed ridiculously easy compared to the amazing feats he had seen performed by Snape and McGonagall-even easy compared with the material they had expected him to learn last month. He felt restless and wondered when they would do something-well-magical.

Thursday afternoon came, and with it Harry's first Potions class. He anxiously reread the first three chapters of his textbook the night before, muttering the names and uses of ingredients. He was not alone: Professor Sprout was an ardent believer in collective effort, and Wednesday nights were to be set aside for the first year study group. Attendance was mandatory, and they were joined by Cedric Diggory, who had been assigned to mentor them. He had the highest grades in his year, and mentoring study groups, he told them, was something Professor Sprout looked for in students who aspired someday to be prefects or quidditch team captains.

"Calm down, Harry!" Cedric reassured him with a smile. "You seem to already have the first year material down pretty thoroughly. I don't think you'll have anything to worry about tomorrow."

"Especially since Professor Snape is your guardian!" agreed Ernie.

"He's my wizarding proxy," Harry corrected him automatically. "My Aunt Petunia is my guardian."

"Whatever," agreed Justin, indulging him. "We're just saying that you're obsessing."

"I don't want to let him down," Harry muttered.

Cedric gave him a smile that was light-hearted, but without mockery. "Somehow I don't expect that to be a problem."

Harry knew that Potions classes were held in the dungeons. He marched in at the head of the Hufflepuff contingent and paused, rather distracted by the shelves of glass jars full of floating animals and random bits. Ernie walked into him and stumbled. There were giggles from the girls as they sorted themselves out and headed to the front of the room, where Harry insisted on sitting. A moment later, the Slytherins were crowding into the room, chattering in excitement.

"Harry!" Draco called, looking very collected and at home. "A decent class at last! Could you believe that buffoon Quirrell?" He raised his brows at the rest of the Hufflepuffs, and nodded to Ernie, Susan, and Hannah.

Harry admitted that he could not quite believe their Defense teacher, and allowed Draco to lead the way to the places immediately in front of the professor's desk.

Draco spoke in a whisper. "Who are the others-that boy and the little girl? Are they-muggleborn?"

Harry sighed. "Sally-Anne is a halfblood like me. Justin is from a very wealthy and prominent family."

"Really?" asked Draco, surreptitiously trying to take another look at Justin's clean profile. "I don't recognize the name-Finch-or something? There were some Finches in Upper Flagley, years ago, but I thought the family was extinct."

"Justin Finch-Fletchley. His father is very high up in the Foreign Office. His mother is Lady Barbara Fitzwilliam, daughter of the Earl of Matlock."

"I knew it," shrugged Draco, losing interest. "Muggles."

Harry huffed in exasperation, but had no time to say anything more, for the door slammed open, and Professor Snape was striding swiftly into the room. Briskly, he took the roll, and paused at Harry's name.

"Harry Potter," he said. "Our new celebrity."

Draco shot Harry a look from the corner of his eye. On his other side, Susan and Hannah giggled, and behind him, Justin gave him a nudge. Harry knew he was for it.

But not yet. Professor Snape, dark and commanding, wished to give them an introduction to his realm.

"You are here," he declared, "to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. 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."

Harry hoped he would do nothing today that would brand him forever as a dunderhead. He stole a glance at Draco, who was nearly glowing with excitement, and Draco gave Harry a look in return. This was going to be a great class.

There was a dramatic pause, and then Professor Snape called out, "Potter!"

Harry's head snapped up, his heart pounding.

"What," asked Professor Snape, "would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

A split-second of terror, and then Harry saw the words on the page in his mind's eye.

"The Draught of the Living Death, Professor: a powerful sleeping potion."

Snape's black eyes raked over the silent students, who waited breathlessly for the verdict.

"Correct. It seems that Mr Potter understands that fame isn't everything. Five points to Hufflepuff."

Justin's boot nudged him again, and Harry heard Ernie's sigh of heartfelt relief.

"Malfoy! Where would you look if I told you find me a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat, sir," answered Draco without hesitation. Harry gave him a faint grin.

"Correct. Five points to Slytherin."

"Well done, Draco!" whispered a Slytherin girl on Draco's other side. Snape ignored her.

"Very well," he said, as if grudgingly measuring out a dram of approval. "Since some of you have deigned to open your books, I will permit you to attempt a simple potion this very day. Page five. The Olivine Boil Cure. You will work in pairs."

Harry had already been tacitly claimed by Draco, and the rest of the room seemed to sort itself out quickly-all but Sally-Anne, who looked about, at a loss.

Draco hissed to the pug-faced girl on his other side, "Pansy! Tell Millicent to pair up with the Perks girl. It's all right. She's a halfblood."

Harry overheard, and gritted his teeth. He really needed to have another talk with Draco.

"Sally-Anne is a really nice girl," he hissed in his turn.

Draco clearly did not comprehend. "Oh, good," he answered absently, already weighing some dried nettles. "Rather pretty, too."

They had work to do, and Harry tried to put Draco's irritating prejudices aside for the moment. Fires were lit and ingredients were crushed. Professor Snape prowled the room, uttering the odd scathing comment, and eventually gravitated to Harry and Draco, praising their stewed horned slugs. There was a frantic, hushed scramble behind them when Justin nearly added porcupine quills prematurely, but Ernie's quick warning forestalled a disaster.

At length they were done, and taught how to bottle and label their products. An essay was assigned, and Harry conscientiously added it to his planner. All in all, it had gone quite well-but for Draco's tactless remarks. Harry looked around and saw Sally, pale and serious, finishing up her potion along with a very big Slytherin girl. They were an ill-assorted pair, but they seemed to have worked together well enough. Susan and Hannah were whispering secrets, as always.

Snape dismissed them, and said, "Potter. Remain after class."

Draco gave him a grin and a wave, and was off, chatting with Vince and Greg.

Harry came up to the teacher's desk and waited. Snape looked over his head at the huddle of small Hufflepuffs.

"Why are you lot still here?"

"Please sir, we're waiting for Harry." answered Susan, with clear-eyed innocence.

"Then wait outside," Snape growled.

A quick retreat ensued, and the door closed behind them. Snape looked at Harry rather quizzically. "Do they believe you are in need of protection?"

"It's not that, Professor. We go everywhere together. Professor Sprout told us to. It's nice to have friends who stick together. It would be the same no matter who you asked to stay behind."

"Really?"

"Of course!"

"If you say so. You did well today, Harry. It was a remarkably successful first class. I am informed that your work and demeanour have been quite satisfactory all week."

"I'm doing my best, sir."

"Good. Come to my quarters for tea on Saturday at four. You can tell me your impressions of Hogwarts. The entrance is two corridors further down from this class. Turn left at the painting of the three witches. I'll keep an eye out for you."

"I'll be there, sir!"

"Get along, get along! You have Charms next, I believe. Don't be late. It's very disrespectful!"

N.A. I am very, very pleased at the response to this story. So many of you have given me such encouragement and such useful criticism. It's seems most of you are indulging my fancy for Happy!Hufflepuff!Harry.

As to Hermione-I'm going to try something a bit different here. No one doubts for a moment that Hermione has the brains for Ravenclaw, but I believe that personal dynamics would play a role in anyone's adjustment to his or her house. If you have four girls who are already good friends, and you drop a girl from a totally different background into that situation, all sorts of possibilities arise. In thinking about Hermione in Ravenclaw, I was forced to consider Luna Lovegood's experiences there. However, Hermione is not Luna, and a similar scenario would play out differently. Originally I was going to put Hermione in Gryffindor, but thinking though what life without Harry in that house might be like (we already know that Lavender and Parvati formed a tight bond with no discernable room for Hermione), I hadn't the heart. Of course, not knowing what we know, Harry might feel guilty for giving Hermione what appears at first glance to have been bad advice. It's early days for all of them, anyway.

I'm very sorry I'm so behind at replying to my reviewers. At the moment it's all I can do to get a chapter out a week. With a very demanding, full-time job, daily visits to my mother in a nursing home, trying to get my deceased brother's house on the wretched real estate market, helping my nephew find a job-and a place to live-and sell the house's contents to a variety of dealers-I am overwhelmed. Walking pneumonia this week didn't help.