Harry woke earlier than everyone else, and carefully made his way around the dormitory, eventually making his way to the bathroom and back to his bed. After getting out clothes, Harry went back, found one of the showers which was already stocked with supplies, and took his shower. It was five thirty by the time he got out of the shower and dressed in his uniform. Everyone else was still asleep, but Harry decided it might be best for him to make his way to the great hall early. After exiting the dormitory, Harry reversed the map to the Gryffindor Dormitory, and set the Great Hall as a mapped location that he could find from anywhere, along with the Gryffindor common room. After entering the common room, Harry walked over to Magic and hugged her.
"How was your night?" Harry asked.
"I remained aware of you." Magic stated in reply.
"Well, time to go find the great hall. Ready?" Harry asked.
"Yes." Magic said, standing.
Harry had unfolded his cane before walking down the stairs, so simply made his way toward where he thought the portrait hole was. He was off by a few feet, but after noticing the difference between the wall and the back of the portrait, pushed it open as if it was on hinges. He climbed out with Magic behind him, then began walking down the corridor.
"Turn left in ten meters." The watch announced.
"Yes, ma'am." Harry jokingly responded.
After following the watches directions for about fifteen minutes, Harry found himself in the entrance hall. He continued to follow its directions until it told him he'd arrived at the destination, and stopped guiding him. Tapping the floor, Harry realized he wasn't close to the door, then remembered he'd begun the mapping when he was outside the great hall. Continuing forward, Harry found the brick wall, then moved right, and not finding the door when he thought he would, turned left until he reached it.
The doors were already open, and the great hall was silent. As Harry stepped into the large room with Magic behind him, he tapped his cane on the floor and listened to the echo.
"Hmm." He said. "Well, this could be a slight problem. I wonder how I'll find the Gryffindor table. I know it's one of the middle tables, but which one?"
Harry began walking around the great hall, familiarizing himself with where everything seemed to be. Four long tables were in the large room, and at its front was the table where he presumed all the professors sat. Recalling where Professor Dumbledore's voice had come from when he'd been speaking the previous night, Harry went along the head table, finding the chair in the middle that was different from all the others. This was probably Dumbledore's seat, Harry thought to himself. He counted the steps until he reached the end of the table, then, once on its other side, counted them until he was back at the center. Harry then put the table to his back, turned slightly right, then began walking until his cane bumped one of the tables. He felt its surface, found the bench that was to his right, then lined up with it at his back and walked forward until he bumped the table at the right side of the room. Heading back, Harry went around the table he'd been at, then passed two before he was at the left side of the room. He returned to his previous position, fairly confident he'd found the correct table, though not entirely certain. If he was right, it was the right table of the center two tables in the room that were the long, rectangular ones. Sitting on the bench about midway down the table with Magic next to him, Harry commented, "I hope this is the correct table."
"You have neglected some of your supplies." Magic stated.
"Oh, great." Harry responded, realizing he'd forgotten his Brailler and a few other necessities. "Well, this is a school of magic, so, transport my Brailler, twenty sheets of paper, with these things in my backpack. Put the backpack on my back."
Harry felt the weight settle on him after he'd finished speaking, grinning as he turned toward her.
"Magic, thanks." He said.
"I do what you wish." Magic responded, but felt the soothing rush of power all the same.
Harry touched the table, though found nothing other than the plates and silverware, guessing it wasn't yet time for Breakfast to be served. He'd just thought that when he felt the same magic as last night, smelled the aroma of food that had appeared on the table, Reaching out, he felt a hot dish of something, pulling his hand back almost immediately.
"What's in that?" He asked, as he didn't want to touch the food.
"Bacon." Magic sedately announced.
"Well, let's see here." Harry said, searching for the serving tongs, or whatever was used to dish the food on to his plate.
After finding some, Harry put some of the bacon on his plate, then continued searching along the long table. After finding a pitcher of liquid, he moved it over to his glass and poured himself something, using a finger to determine when his cup was full and hearing someone entering the great hall, though not certain who. He put the pitcher back where he'd found it as he heard sounds of dishes being moved at the head table. One of the professors had entered, then, Harry thought.
"What's this?" Harry asked Magic, having found another hot dish.
"Toast." Magic replied.
"Well, this should be interesting." Harry said to himself.
He used the tongs to grab some of the bread, and after he'd gathered four pieces, touched them and found they didn't have any butter. After wiping his fingers off on a napkin, he touched the table around the platter of toast, trying to find anything that looked like butter. What he found didn't seem to have anything to do with butter. In fact, it looked more like a large, round container with the handle of a knife at its top. Carefully moving it closer to him, Harry sniffed it. Definitely not butter, he concluded, pushing it back and resuming his search, whistling to himself a little.
"Aha." He said, finding another dish that was warm. "Let's see if you're what I want."
Harry brought it close to him, and after smelling it, determined it was probably butter. Grasping the handle of the knife inside, he carefully scooped some on the knife, then brought it to his bread and spread the butter, or whatever it was, on his toast. He placed the piece of toast under the second piece, repeating the motions. After he finished, he made sure the table hadn't been dirtied in any way, and found that it hadn't been. Replacing the dish back where it had come from, he picked up the toast and began eating, proud of himself for this act of independence, hearing Magic gathering food for herself.
"Superb." Harry said to himself with a grin as he ate.
Harry found that he could eat as much as he liked. In fact, without anyone in the great hall except the single professor that had entered, Harry felt no guilt of availing himself of more of the dishes. After eating the toast and bacon, Harry next found waffles, though only knew where the butter was.
"Magic, where's the syrup?" Harry asked after he spread the butter on his waffles.
"One point two seven meters to the left of the butter dish." Magic blandly said.
"Hmm." Harry responded, standing and moving to the left of Magic to try and find it. Touching a container, he asked, "Is this it?"
"Yes." Magic stated.
Harry handed her the bottle and asked, "Would you mind? I can never get that right no matter how hard I try."
"Superfluous conversation is unnecessary. Ask me only." Magic said as she poured the liquid on his waffles.
"I'll remember that." Harry said. "Be sure to put that back when you're done."
Harry began cutting the waffles, and once cut, ate them, though found where a piece of the waffle had gone off his plate and on to the table. Since the tables felt quite clean, Harry didn't mind eating it, and silently asked Magic to clean the table around his plate. She did so, and when Harry finished, he found himself something else to eat.
He sampled a few different items as he heard the person who had sat down at the front, humming to himself. It seemed like the humming came from a familiar voice, though it took him a moment to recognize it. It was Professor Dumbledore, Harry thought, fairly confident he was correct. Just then, Harry heard someone hurrying into the great hall, then Hermione's familiar voice called across the empty room, "Harry!"
"Hermione, hey!" Harry said with a grin as she ran over to him, sounding out of breath.
"I was... Looking... For you..." She said.
"Well, here I am." He responded. "What is it, about six twenty?"
"Yeah." Hermione said as she slid on to the bench next to him.
"So, I take it that I got to the correct table? Is this the Gryffindor one?" Harry asked.
"Yes, it is." Hermione replied.
"Oh, good." Harry grinned. "I'm always glad when I figure something like that out, especially in a maze of a place like Hogwarts. Did you know that the distance between here and the great hall seemed to change? That could be me, of course, but I felt like I was traveling and looping through more corridors than I had when I originally came here. Either that, or my watch got confused."
"Well, the watch might not be perfect." Hermione said. "We can explore that if you want."
"Sure, I'd like that." Harry said as he heard her dishing herself up some food to eat. "I also wondered. Is that Professor Dumbledore up there at the teachers table?"
"Yeah, it is. How'd you know?" Hermione asked.
"I heard him humming earlier. I thought it was him." He said. "I wonder if we'll have the same schedule. If we do, would you mind helping me to classes?"
"Not at all." Hermione replied, eager to assist him.
"Thanks." Harry said. "Usually, Sharen would take me around the school so I could learn my way, but I think Hogwarts is going to be a bit more challenging."
"I'll help you figure it out." Hermione replied.
"At least someone will." Harry said.
"Magic, how are you doing today, okay?" Hermione asked.
"Harry is well. I am well." Magic stated in reply.
"Huh." Hermione stated, confused. "Are you always like that, fine if Harry is fine, etc?"
"I'm a part of Harry. I would be." Magic stated.
"A lot of people find Magic very difficult to talk to because of how direct she is." Harry said. "I know Ron was having difficulty last night."
"I'm sure I can manage, and if you'd like, Magic, I'll be your friend." Hermione said.
"Harry is your friend, so I'm your friend." Magic stated.
"Oh." Hermione replied. "Well, that's nice. I'm glad to hear it."
Harry heard other people heading into the great hall as he sat next to Hermione, who was silently eating. He heard the whispering about him, imagined people were pointing in his direction. He ignored it, simply let them say what they wanted. Others soon began to join them at the Gryffindor table, though no one spoke to either of them. About a half hour before classes, Professor McGonagall handed out their schedules. Harry was glad to see that his was in braille, beginning to read it.
"First, I've got Herbology on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday." Harry said.
"So do I." Hermione replied.
"Nothing for the second period today, but Tuesday it's Defense Against the Dark Arts. Wow, today's easy. Only Herbology." Harry said.
"Well, then, we can use the extra time to familiarize you with Hogwarts." Hermione responded briskly. "And from what you've told me so far, we've got all of the same classes. Do you have History of Magic second period on Wednesday, and Astronomy on midnight?"
"Yes for History of Magic, nope for Astronomy." Harry said.
"That makes sense." Hermione said. "Astronomy is the study of the stars and planets, which is what the telescope is for."
"Telescope? I wasn't asked to get that." Harry said.
"Well, you wouldn't be able to make use of it." Hermione said.
"I suppose not. At least the Headmaster's practical here." Harry said, then continued reading his schedule aloud. "Looks like on Thursday I've got Charms, then Transfiguration, and in the afternoon, flying. How's that supposed to work?"
"You can still fly a broom even if you're blind. You just won't be able to see where you're going." Hermione stated practically.
"Well, that should prove to be interesting." Harry said.
"Did I hear you correctly, Mr. Potter, you have the flying class on your schedule?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Yes, Professor, that's right." Harry replied.
"I meant to omit that from your schedule." Professor McGonagall stated. "Clearly, it would be unsafe for you to take such a class."
"I'd like to try it, Professor." Harry said. "You can watch the entire time if you want, to satisfy yourself of my safety. I'm curious to know what it's all about, though, and it sounds pretty intriguing, though it does seem a little scary. In the air, I've got nothing to orient me."
"Precisely, Mr. Potter. I believe it would be best for all concerned if we got your schedule re-printed." Professor McGonagall stated.
"Professor, if you take the class off my schedule, I could still go to it even if I'm not participating, and could still fly even if it's not in a class, unless there's restrictions on where someone could fly. If I'm at the class, I can learn how wizards fly from the instructor." Harry said.
"Minerva." Harry heard the voice of Professor Dumbledore say firmly, then add in a quieter voice, "If Mr. Potter wishes to fly, he may do so."
"But he's blind, Albus! What if he falls and breaks his arm?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Concerned as we are for his safety, children must learn their own lessons often times. If Mr. Potter falls and breaks his arm, I dare say, he will gain a further appreciation for the risks involved in such activities. Believe me, and I mean no insult, Mr. Potter, I wish to protect you just as much as Professor McGonagall does. However, Minerva, we must let Mr. Potter live his life as he will. I saw a most impressive display earlier this morning while I entered the great hall, allowing Mr. Potter to obtain his own food with limited assistance from Magic. Though I wished to help him, I did not. Perhaps, Minerva, it is time we reexamine some of our own attitudes and views, for I believe Mr. Potter is far more capable an individual than we believe him to be."
"But Albus!" Professor McGonagall began, indignant, though Harry couldn't get the beaming grin off his face.
"The discussion is closed, Minerva. Pardon me." Professor Dumbledore stated, then walked off. Professor McGonagall sighed, sounding irritated, though simply walked off. Harry quietly laughed with joy.
"Finally, someone who isn't overprotective of me!" He said, still beaming.
"I'm glad you're happy." Hermione said, sounding happy for him.
"Okay." Harry said, breathing more deeply. "The schedule. Let's see if ours still line up. Friday is Potions for first and second periods, and that's it."
"We've got the same schedule, then." Hermione responded. "I imagine they'll only diverge when we choose our electives in third year, and after our O.W.L. results for our fifth year."
"Are the classrooms in the same place regardless what year you're in?" Harry asked.
"I'm not sure, but I think so." Hermione said.
"Good. That'll make things a little easier." Harry stated, then his attention was caught by the sound of many flapping wings. "What's that?"
"It's the post." Hermione said. "Owls bringing people packages."
"Nice." Harry said. "Although, I wish there was another way to receive mail in the wizarding world."
Herbology was taught by Professor Sprout, who gave them a lecture on the importance of caring for magical plants, and why they were learning to do so. Harry thought this was a class he could probably do okay at, though it depended on several things. As long as he could tell certain things by touch, he imagined he'd do well. When they walked from the Greenhouse an hour later and headed back up to the school, Hermione said, "Harry, I feel you're not using every ability you have to its fullest advantage."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"Magic." Hermione said. "You could rely on her a lot more than you do, and I don't think you'd mind helping. Would you, Magic?"
"Harry wants what he wants, and I do what he wishes." Magic said.
"Hermione, I explained why I don't use Magic much. I don't want to become dependent on her." Harry said.
"But, Harry, you're not depending on Magic, you're just depending on another ability that you have, a part of yourself that will never leave you. If I understand things between you and Magic correctly, that is." Hermione said.
"That's not always true, Hermione." Harry replied. "Magic won't be going into the boys dormitory for obvious reasons. She's a girl, who shouldn't be around them while they're getting undressed and such, according to the professors I'm sure. So, while I'm there, Magic's in the common room. If I ever go out walking at the Dursley's, often times I don't go with Magic. So it's important for me to learn what things are like without Magic first whenever I can, and only rely on Magic when it's necessary."
Harry briefly thought about how Aunt Petunia didn't want Magic to go to school, and before that point, as he never wanted to leave her, he was told to remain inside. It was rather rare that Magic went out with them at all, and always something they would avoid if at all possible, though, they never left her alone in the house, either.
"I suppose so, but you're short-changing yourself." Hermione said. "I'll always think that."
"Are you still willing to help me?" Harry asked.
"Of course." Hermione responded.
Harry stopped mapping the rout from the greenhouse to the school when they reached Hogwarts, and with Hermione's help, the trio found where all of Harry's classes would be, then went over the routs again. Hermione got lost, but Harry's watch always kept them on track.
"Things move around so much here, portraits changing places, the suits of armor I swear can walk, and it's so confusing." Hermione said before dinner that day.
"Well, at least I've got the watch to help me out. So, was it me, or is the watch malfunctioning or what?" Harry asked.
"No, it's neither. It's Hogwarts. I think some corridors might lead a different place sometimes, but it's so mixed up in my head, I don't know." Hermione said. "I might need you and your fancy watch just to help me get to my classes."
"I'll help you as long as you like." Harry said with a grin.
The next day, Hermione followed Harry and Magic, who walked side by side down the corridors. Harry made his way to Herbology on his own, and from there, managed to make his way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. The class was taught by Professor Quirrell, who stuttered and stammered his way through the lesson. It wasn't really much of a lesson, though, as it turned out to be more of a lecture or a tail on some of his adventures, which started out with how he'd received the turban, though Harry found himself more interested in why his classroom smelled so strongly of garlic. No one believed the story Professor Quirrell had told them about how he'd received the turban, as when Seamus had asked some questions to verify it, Professor Quirrell began stammering his way through talking about the weather.
History of Magic on Wednesday was probably the most boring class Harry had ever attended. Aside from Professor Binns voice that droned on and on, was the sound of the soft clicking of the keys on Harry's magical Brailler, and the slight clicking sound it made when it brailed on the paper. It was far quieter than Harry's Muggle Brailler had been. In fact, it was only slightly louder than a quill scratching on paper. Harry found this to be a refreshing change, along with the weight of the device. However, as Professor Binns spoke, Harry realized he was simply going through the stories that were already in the book. Though they were worded differently, they were practically the same. Harry also didn't much like that Professor Binns didn't really do much teaching. He simply droned on about the historical facts that were laid out far more consistently in the book. After the class, as he ate lunch with Hermione, he brought up his observations to her.
"I wrote down just about everything he said." Harry said. "It was the same as the books except for him mixing up some words. He didn't really do much teaching, either, just started going on after the bell for class rang."
"He's one of the professors here." Hermione said. "Obviously, Headmaster Dumbledore chose the best one for the job."
"Did he?" Harry asked, then boldly said to those around him, "Who wants to learn about the historical facts again, in a way that will actually keep everyone awake?"
"Who needs history, anyway?" Ron asked. "It's all the same stuff."
"If you don't learn from the mistakes of the past, you're going to repeat them. It's important to know what happened in the past so we don't do the same things, even if they're in different forms." Harry responded. "For example, are you aware of the Holocaust?"
"What's that?" Ron asked.
"Six-million people were killed, starting in 1933 and ending in 1945, all because of racial prejudice, because one group of people thought they were superior to another." Harry responded. "The killer of my parents is doing the very same thing, and people like Draco Malfoy have very similar prejudice views."
"What d'you mean, exactly?" Ron asked.
"You heard what he said to me on the train." Harry explained. "That Muggles were trash, didn't think very highly of you. Also, when you entered and Daphne Greengrass was there, she said she didn't want to sully herself with the taint of a blood traitor, or something to that effect. That in itself proves a prejudice, stereotypical view, something people have because they either don't want to get to know someone, or they've been raised with beliefs they're unwilling to reexamine."
"Uh... Harry?" Ron said, his voice shaking a little.
"Just a sec." Harry replied. "I want to finish this before I forget. Now, the Holocaust was all about being rid of people who the Nazis thought weren't perfect. I would have been deemed imperfect by them."
"Harry?" Hermione interjected.
"Hold on, almost done." Harry said. "Now, the killer of my parents. If I understand correctly, he wants to be rid of all those who aren't pure of blood, or are traitors to blood purity, people who consort with Muggles. Who they are isn't relevant to him, it's how he views them, he and his Death Eaters. It's racism and prejudice, blind irrationality. There are parallels to Muggle history, to the Holocaust, in my parents killer's views. Now, what is it, Ron and Hermione?"
"Well..." Ron gulped, his voice shaking.
"I am behind you." Daphne's voice stated in her cool tones.
Harry's heart pounded and he turned his head to face her. His hands shook, but he decided not to stop now.
"And what did you think of my speech?" He asked.
"Insightful." Daphne stated. "I'm unfamiliar with this Muggle Holocaust, but you seem versed on the subject. You correctly identified my own prejudice beliefs as well."
"How would you know?" Ron asked. "You're just a slimy Sl..."
"Hey." Harry said a bit firmly. "Ron, remember how people treat me. Don't treat them the same way." There was a few moments of silence.
"You demonstrate similar prejudice toward me as I did toward you on the train, Weasley." Daphne stated. Her cool, calm tones hadn't changed. "If we overlook stereotypes, we can become friends. Judging others in such a fashion is most unwise, and I was wrong to engage in such an activity."
"Greengrass!" Malfoy called as he hurried over. "What are you doing talking with such riffraff?"
"These are people, Malfoy." She replied. "You would do well to understand the distinction between good people and those of low standard, and your distinctive views don't indicate any such views, based on the beliefs of your father and not based on whom you have actually met."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Malfoy asked.
"These riffraff, as you called them, are far more insightful and Slytherin than you will ever be, though that is not their goal." Daphne stated. "With a few words, they have greatly assisted me in making a decision of belief, for which you would do well to make as well."
"Fine." Malfoy snarled. "If you want to hang out with Mudbloods and blood traitors, so be it!"
Everyone at the Gryffindor table who had heard Malfoy, gasped, except Hermione and Harry, who stood up quickly and faced Malfoy, his heart pounding with the anger he felt.
"Exactly what does that word mean, Malfoy? Perhaps you would care to explain it to me, because it didn't sound very nice." Harry stated in a loud, but firm voice.
He heard other conversations stopping, which had been his goal.
"None of your business, Potter." Malfoy stated, trying to put himself in a better looking light.
"Really?" Harry asked. "I'll ask very politely, and remember, I didn't come from the same background as you. Explain to me, please, what the word Mudblood means, so everyone can hear you. I'm sure Hermione would be interested in knowing as well."
"It's none of your business, Potter, stay out of it!" Malfoy shouted. "I don't need to explain anything to the likes of a blind blood traitor such as yourself!"
"That will do, Malfoy." Professor Snape's icy tones stated coldly from behind him.
"Professor, Malfoy used a rather unkind term, Mudblood, and he was quite rude when I politely asked him to explain it. I won't use the word, but I'd like to know what it means." Harry said.
"I don't think so, Potter." Professor Snape stated. "You will, no doubt, manipulate the situation to your favor given the chance. I intend to disavow you of that opportunity."
"But, Professor Snape, sir, how do you know that?" Harry asked politely, though he felt seething fury that this professor was judging him. He didn't show it, though.
"Because, Potter, you're as arrogant as your father, and I will have none of that behavior!" Professor Snape stated furiously.
"Sir, I never knew my father." Harry responded politely. "If you and him had a confrontational relationship, and you now dislike him, I only ask that you remember that I'm not my father. I'm a different person, and I'd ask you not to judge me before you get to know me, and please don't base me off of stereotypes and experiences you've had with my father."
Harry heard nothing but silence for a few moments, then heard Professor Snape state, "Ten points from Slytherin and detention with me tonight for your use of foul language, Mr. Malfoy."
With a shaky sigh, Harry made to turn around and sit back down after he heard the footsteps heading toward the Slytherin table, which was behind him. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"I apologize for my stereotypes." Daphne stated, her voice no longer cool, but simply calm. "I wish to be friends with you, if you will be friends with me."
"Sure." Harry said. "I'd like that."
"Perhaps you, as well, wish to be friends, Granger." Daphne stated.
"Sure." Hermione replied. "Why don't you sit down. We can get to know each other."
Harry sat, Hermione slid over, and Daphne sat next to Harry, who's hands still trembled.
"Call me Harry, Daphne." Harry said, then quickly added, "Can I call you Daphne?"
"Yes." She replied calmly as conversations slowly started up around them.
"What did that word Mudblood mean?" Hermione quietly asked.
"It refers to someone born of Muggles only, and are considered by some to possess dirty blood, tainted and unworthy of any magical heritage." Daphne stated, then turned to Ron. "Weasley. Stop staring at me."
"Sorry. I've just never... Never seen a Slytherin sitting with Gryffindors before." Ron said.
"I may be doing so more often, but I would appreciate that you stop staring at me." Daphne responded. "I am not like my fellow Slytherins, Weasley."
"We'll see." Ron grumbled. Harry sighed.
"Well, it's a step, I suppose." He remarked. He hoped it was a step in the right direction, a step toward unity.
The next day, Harry went to Charms class with everyone else, and when Professor Flitwick, a small man, announced Harry's name when taking roll call, Harry heard him squeak and topple to the floor before getting up and telling Harry that if he ever needed any help at all, to ask him. The class was a talk about the usefulness of charms, and a little quiz to gather their thoughts on what Charms could be used for. Harry was excited for the practical application, but imagined that would be easy.
Professor McGonagall's class of transfiguration was a no nonsense type of class, exactly as Harry thought it would be. After roll call, she warned them, ""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."
Harry then heard the snorting of a pig where her desk had been, and everyone made sounds of impressed awe.
"For your benefit, Mr. Potter, I have transformed my desk into a pig, then back again." Professor McGonagall said.
Harry had felt the magic involved, and if needed, could duplicate it. He wasn't as impressed as everyone else, though that was probably because he couldn't actually see it happen. For the next half hour, Professor McGonagall spoke to them about the theory behind transfiguration, which involved a great deal of complicated note taking. Harry took detailed notes, typing as quickly as he could on his braille writer, determined to put down everything he could.
Once they finished taking notes, Professor McGonagall gave each one of them match sticks and told them to try and turn it into a needle. Harry didn't use the useless words, only thought what he wanted after touching the match stick. Just as he wished, it became a needle. Harry let it fall on the desk a few times, then after hearing that it was metal, made it a match stick again. He went back and forth with this a few times as he held it in his hands, then faced Professor McGonagall when she said, "Mr. Potter, what do you think you're doing?"
"Practicing the assignment, Professor." Harry said. "I was looking forward to performing practical magic. I could probably turn my entire desk into metal, which would be pretty cool, but I don't fully understand the density changes that might be involved, and whether transfiguring it into metal would take from the air to produce the needed material, or my magical energy. I don't want to go playing around with anything like that without some type of supervision. I think I understand all that correctly, Professor, since metal is heavier than wood and what not."
"Yes, I believe you do, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall said, and Harry noticed that everyone was silently looking at him. "If you wish to attempt this experiment, I will allow you to do so."
"Cool." Harry replied as he stood, picking up his backpack, which he'd placed his Brailler and notes in.
"Pay careful attention, everyone. When experimenting with transfiguration of this kind, safety always comes first. I will place a ward around the desk to prevent any large amounts of material from entering or exiting the area." Professor McGonagall said.
Harry felt the magical ward go up, grinning at yet another thing he could duplicate should he wish.
"Make your attempt, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall directed.
Harry made no visible movement and said nothing, only thought what he wanted. He heard a loud pop and the entire class, except for Professor McGonagall, jumped. Harry felt his heart pounding, feeling more magic coming from Professor McGonagall's wand, dispelling the protective ward.
"As you guessed, Mr. Potter, the air was taken to fill the space needed to produce the proper density." Professor McGonagall said. "I, of course, knew this would happen. However, I wanted you to be aware of the effects. You have produced a flawless transfiguration. Congratulations, Mr. Potter. I believe fifty points to Gryffindor is warranted."
"It's not fair, Professor." Harry said, then added, "Get ready everyone, I'm turning it back." Another loud pop sounded and the desk was once again wood.
"What, precisely, is unfair about my awarding you points, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Well, you wouldn't award points for someone walking, Professor. Having Magic perform acts of magic is like walking to me. It comes completely naturally for me, with ease. The hard part is actually fully understanding the theories and such, which I'd definitely want to do if I wanted to transform one organic thing into another, and maintain the health of the being in question. I know why transfiguration's so dangerous, and I completely understand your warnings." Harry said.
"Then, Mr. Potter, you will not be awarded those points for your transfiguration, if you believe it to be unfair. Instead, you will be awarded the points for grasping the seriousness of this class, and for asking before your experimentation today." Professor McGonagall responded.
"Thanks, Professor." Harry said, sitting back down.
"How did you do that?" Hermione demanded.
"Ever eager to receive knowledge, I see." Harry said. "I just wanted the desk to become metal, and my magic made it happen. Magic guides it, and my thoughts, too."
"I haven't even got this match stick to be part of a needle yet." Hermione said.
"First, try relaxing. Take a few deep breaths and focus on what you want. Okay?" Harry said calmly.
He heard Hermione breathing, and slowly, the class began to begin working again with a few more reminders from Professor McGonagall. By its end, Hermione had managed to partly turn her match stick into a needle, something Harry was proud of her for. She was glad about that, but still wanted to perform magic with the same ease that Harry could. After talking with her about it for some time, Harry realized she was jealous, and asked her why he wasn't jealous of her sight, as he didn't have that. Hermione went silent after that, and apologized later on that night. Harry accepted it, and their friendship grew closer.
Friday was the first day Harry received post in the mail. He was familiar with the owls flocking overhead, but had never had one drop anything off until that morning. Harry was beginning to eat from his bowl of porridge as he conversationally asked, "I wonder what potions will be like."
"Dunno, mate." Ron responded, he sitting beside Harry today. "It's with Snape, though, and I hear he favors the Slytherins. Guess we'll see if it's true."
"I suppose so." Harry replied. "Too bad Professor McGonagall doesn't favor us, eh?"
Harry had worked throughout the previous day completing the assignments for Transfiguration, and the much smaller one for Charms. He was nearly done with his transfiguration assignment, and glad of it. Beside him, Ron gave a sound of agreement.
Harry heard the mail arriving, and as usual, expected nothing. He was surprised to hear an owl land in front of where he sat, feeling its beak gently bump at his hand. Curious, Harry reached hesitantly forward as the owl remained still, and not for the first time, wondered if animals actually knew he was blind. After untying the note from the owl, he said, "Ron, would you mind reading this for me?"
"Sure." Ron replied, taking it from him. "Looks like it was written by someone who doesn't know how to write. Anyway, it says, dear Harry. I'm Hagrid, the grounds keeper at Hogwarts, and the one who led you and the other first years to the school. I knew your parents, and know you've got Friday afternoon's off. Do you want to come and have tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send your answer back with the owl that brought you the letter. Hagrid."
"Want to come with me, Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked.
"I'll come." Hermione responded.
"Sure." Ron said.
"Okay, answer in the affirmative, then." Harry said.
"In the what?" Ron asked.
"Affirmative. It means yes. Answer yes." Harry responded. "I love reading, you should read more, it increases the vocabulary, and your knowledge."
"Hmm." Ron replied as he wrote, then Harry heard the owl fly off after a few seconds. "Well, it's off."
"Great." Harry replied with a smile.
Harry walked the vaguely familiar rout to the dungeon where Potions was held. It was colder, which Harry expected, as it was under ground. Like Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape took roll call. When he got to Harry's name, he said, "Ah, Harry Potter. Everyone should know him by now."
After he finished, Harry prepared to write down notes as he did in most classes, then Professor Snape began speaking.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion- making." He began, speaking just loud enough for them to hear every word. The class was silent, and Harry could tell Professor Snape had a passion for what he did. "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 put a stopper in death, if you are willing to be attentive."
Silence settled over the class for a few seconds, and Harry could hear Hermione breathing fast, perhaps eager to share her knowledge.
"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Professor Snape asked. When Hermione raised her hand, Professor Snape stated, "I am well aware of your knowledge, Miss Granger, and have complete confidence that you know the answer. Please, put your hand down if you will, and allow others to answer the questions I pose."
Harry heard nothing but silence after that.
"No one but Miss Granger knows, then?" Professor Snape stated. "Perhaps something easier. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Harry hesitantly rose his hand.
"Potter." Snape stated.
"In the stomach of a goat, sir." Harry replied.
"Very good, Potter." Professor Snape said. Harry was glad he'd read over his potions book again. "One final question, then. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" After a moment, Professor Snape said, "Longbottom."
"They're the same plant, sir." He responded.
"Correct, but somewhat incomplete. It will also go by the name of aconite. Your answer, as well, Potter, was incomplete. A bezoar is taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons. And, finally, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death." Professor Snape stated.
Harry was brailing quickly, but he was the only one taking notes until Professor Snape barked, "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
He heard everyone getting out their writing supplies, and after they finished taking notes, Professor Snape placed them all into pairs. They began brewing a potion to cure boils, which seemed like a fairly simple one. Magic, being Harry's, was always with him, though he worked with Ron as his partner. Harry began measuring his ingredients after Ron got them. Ron also read the directions to him, and helped to measure things as well. It was meticulous work, and Harry thought he might be able to get quite good at it. If Magic hadn't been there to help him, though, he doubted he'd do as well.
Professor Snape swept among them, curtly stating corrections and directions to everyone, though he seemed to do so with a bit more hostility to the Gryffindors than the Slytherins. Malfoy seemed exempt from his attitude, and Professor Snape was telling the class to observe the perfect way he had stewed his horned slugs when a hissing filled the dungeon. Harry could smell an acrid stench, and Ron said, "Hurry, up on the stool!"
Harry clambered up on his stool and Magic did the same beside him. He could hear others climbing up on their stools as well, people chattering about what had happened.
"What happened?" Harry asked.
"Neville's potion's melted the cauldron, and it's going across the floor." Ron replied.
"Idiot boy!" Professor Snape snarled angrily, and Harry felt some type of vanishing magic. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire? Take him up to the hospital wing."
Professor Snape sounded livid, but luckily, his ire wasn't directed at either him or Ron, something Harry was glad for. He vaguely wondered how he might have been if he hadn't spoke to him a couple days ago. Before then, Professor Snape hadn't seemed to like him. Now, it seemed his attitude was changing. Harry felt hope, and wondered what the rest of potions would bring. By the end of class, Harry and Ron turned in their potion, which Professor Snape graded as acceptable. They then left the dungeon, and Harry remarked, "Well, that wasn't as bad as it could have been."
"Not as bad?" Hermione asked, sounding angry. "He wouldn't even let me answer any questions!"
"Lay off, Hermione, will you?" Ron asked angrily.
Hermione huffed, but said nothing more.
At five minutes to three, Harry, Magic, and Ron made their way down to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the grounds. Hermione changed her mind about coming when Ron continued to make somewhat rude statements about her knowing everything, and wanted her to stop presenting her knowledge. Harry, caught in the middle of their argument, was a little uncomfortable, though Hermione told him she'd be in the Gryffindor common room whenever he wanted to talk. Harry had the worry of Hermione on his mind as he went to Hagrid's hut with Ron, and was trying to figure out the best way of bringing Ron's insults of Hermione to his attention, as he didn't seem to notice.
When Harry reached the door to the hut, he touched the wood the house was made from, then felt his way to the door knob before knocking. The sound of something very large scratching wildly at the door presented itself next and Harry jumped, jumping again when he heard the booming barks of what sounded like a very large dog. Magic's arms locked around him from behind and she stated, "I'll protect you." Ron snickered.
"What?" Harry asked. "I don't like many animals."
"Back, Fang, back!" The booming voice of Hagrid said. Harry recognized him from when he'd led the first years to the castle.
The door was pulled open a crack, then Hagrid said, "Hang on. Back, Fang!"
Harry heard the scrabbling of the large dog, his heart pounding uncomfortably.
"All righ', yeh can come in. Don' yeh worry, Harry, Fang's nothin'." Hagrid said, a large hand hitting Harry's shoulder with enough force to make his knees buckle. Unsteadily, he made his way into the hut with Magic still embracing him unemotionally from behind, and Ron followed.
"Make yerselves at home." Hagrid said, closing the door behind them and letting Fang go.
The hut smelled of the dog, as well as tea and a fire. Aside from Fang, Harry thought it was quite comfortable. He made his way to the table with Magic's help as he heard Ron make a startled sound. He peaked through Magic and noticed Fang licking Ron's ears and panting happily. He was still scared, though, and didn't want Fang near him at the moment. He felt Magic comply with a discrete shield to block physical items. As Ron came to sit next to Harry and Magic, Harry said, "So, you're Hagrid, then?"
"Tha's righ'." Hagrid responded. "Yeh're Harry. Las' time I saw yeh, yeh were jus' a little baby."
"Did you ever get to meet Magic?" Harry asked.
"No, I didn't." Hagrid replied as Magic looked at him.
"I'm Magic." She stated.
"Well, nice ter meet yeh." Hagrid said.
As Harry held out his hand and said, "I'm glad to meet you, too." Hagrid grasped his entire arm and shook it rather firmly. Harry pulled it back afterward.
"This is Ron, my friend." Harry said, turning to his left a little where Ron sat.
"Another Weasley, eh?" Hagrid asked as he poured water and was placing something on what sounded like plates. "I spend half me life chasin' yer twin brother's away from the forest."
"Fred and George. They're pranksters, Harry." Ron explained.
"Well, I imagine they'd get into some trouble, then." He said with a chuckle.
The rock cakes weren't anything good, though they would have been if they hadn't actually been as hard as a rock. Harry shamelessly explained that to Hagrid rather than pretend to like them, and Ron agreed with him. Hagrid didn't seem offended, though, simply poured them more tea when their cups ran low as they explained their first week to him. Harry told Hagrid about how he'd learned to get around, and the helpfulness of Hermione. Hagrid, like many, was impressed with his ability, and Harry was glad he didn't try and be overly helpful. Harry explained that to him as well, and by the time they left later on that day, he thought the visit to Hagrid's hadn't been all that bad. Perhaps he'd have a new friend in Hagrid, Harry thought hopefully, feeling a great swell of joy. So far, he'd made more friends and had more experiences here at Hogwarts than he'd ever had at the Dursley's, and looked forward to more.