Chapter 5: First Classes
To say that Harry was excited to start classes would be an understatement. He had gotten up early to make sure he had all his materials organized for the day. He had his required books in his bag, as well as his potions and transfiguration kits in a side pocket. He went into the large bathroom in the Slytherin common room and looked into the mirror. He didn't have his robes on yet but his muggle clothes draped around him like thick curtains. Remembering an appearance charm from his new book, he pointed his wand at the offensive rags and muttered the spell. His clothes seemed to grow in reverse, shrinking until they fit snugly against him. In spite of the disgust Harry felt at being able to see his ribs through his shirt, Harry grinned - he loved magic.
After making a point to start taking better care of himself (i.e. actually try to eat at meals) and finishing up his morning hygiene routine, Harry went back up to his dormitory. He was pleased that the drapes were different than the ones in Gryffindor tower. They were thicker, to keep out the cold dungeon air, and they were a rich green embroidered with silver and black swirls. If Harry concentrated real hard he swore he could see them move, like snakes slithering around one's bed. Harry wondered if it was a trick of the eyes, or perhaps an actual enchantment.
The beds were the same, most everything else was the same as well, though that was to be expected. The houses really didn't differ much when it came to anything but their students. Harry popped open his trunk and grabbed his robes, wriggling them on over his other clothes. They'd taken on a small Slytherin emblem overnight and he ran his fingers over the stitching with a small frown. It would take some getting used to. His other dormmates - Malfoy, Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle - were just getting up, and Harry said good morning to them all before quickly heading down to breakfast.
As Harry slid into his seat at the Slytherin table the edges of his mouth quirked up. Chocolate chocolate chip muffins were on the table today, his favorite. He grabbed four, excited to be able to eat his fill now that he was at Hogwarts. He pulled out his transfigurations textbook and flipped it open, hoping to get a solid headstart into his classes.
Before he could delve too far into the text, Blaise Zabini slid in next to him, "Morning, Potter. Transfigurations, eh?"
Harry jumped. He replied, "Oh, morning Zabini. Yeah, it's pretty interesting."
"I'm looking forward to seeing how McGonagall will teach it that's for sure, since I've heard she's an animagus." The boy smirked, pleased with his 'secret' knowledge. Harry could see the Slytherin cunning bursting at the other boy's seams. There was certainly nothing wrong with wanting to put your best foot forward when making someone's acquaintence.
Harry smiled, "Yeah, that will be cool. I hope we can see her transform." The other boy had made an effort to approach him kindly, and Harry didn't want to put a damper on his spirits by asserting that he'd already known about their feline professor.
"That'd be wicked," the other boy grinned. "Anyway, I see Draco, so I'm gonna go grab a seat next to him. His family and mine go way back, I'm sure you understand. See you later?"
Harry nodded. He'd never actually interacted with Blaise Zabini before, but the boy seemed nice enough. Besides, it would help to have a bridge to Malfoy, even if he didn't become friends with the blonde-haired wizard. Of course, he didn't want to just use Zabini as a stepping stone, and he had never really been particularly cruel to Harry previously, so he certainly deserved a real chance at friendship. Harry shrugged to himself and went back to his reading.
He had gotten through almost 3 chapters of theory when Professor Snape stopped next to him and thrust a piece of paper in his direction - his schedule, Harry realized. He took it with a small smile at the man, refusing to meet his eyes, "Thank you, sir."
The dour professor sneered, but said nothing, and continued on to the next student. Harry sighed, well that was certainly the most civil he could hope for, he supposed. As much as he wanted to dedicate himself to his studies this year, he really wasn't looking forward to potions class any more than when he'd come to Hogwarts previously.
Spying a 5th year's tempus our of the corner of his eye, Harry snagged his bag and made his way toward his first class, Transfiguration. Knowing his way around the castle had it's advantages, and he made it with time to spare, entering and seeing Professor McGonagall in her cat form in the front of the room. He stared at her for a moment, having never taken the time to fully appreciate the complexity of her animagus form before. The sleek gray fur shone like her customary green clock. He wondered why she wore that color, she certainly seemed to prefer the Gryffindor red and gold in all other aspects of life.
Harry took his seat deliberately, in the front row. He took out his Transfiguration book and opened it up to the first practical application chapter, halfway through the book. He looked over the pages critically as the rest of the students trickled into the room, finding their seats awkwardly and glancing at the Professor with curiosity, confusion, and in some cases excitement. They would no doubt be disappointed to find out the animagus transformation wasn't something they would be learning until their seventh year, if they chose to take the class that far.
The clock tower struck 9 and class began. Professor McGonagall swiftly jumped off her desk, and transformed back into her human form mid-air. She held up a hand to silence the chatter that ensued. "Good morning, students, and welcome to your first Transfiguration class. I believe in teaching both theory and practice, so before anything else, I'd like to give you your homework for tomorrow."
The students' eyes popped. An assignment already, before the class had even properly begun? Their collective displeasure was obvious. "Our class time is best spent on practical application, so I want you all to read the first 2 chapters on theory of the subject by tomorrow. I won't have you write anything on it, just be sure to know the basics well."
The students breathed a sigh of relief. At least they wouldn't have to break out the parchment just yet. Harry smiled. It was good to be back to the simple early days of Hogwarts. He had really been given a great gift.
The professor explained the task at hand, turning a matchstick into a needle, and stressed that visualization and correct pronunciation was very important. The students began to start their attempts at basic transfiguration. Harry's eyes were drawn across the classroom to the Ravenclaw side after he heard the first utterance of the incantation. Hermione had gotten it on her first try. The Professor seemed to glow as she inspected the girl's work, "Beautifully done, Miss Granger. 5 points to Ravenclaw." Hermione's large teeth shone brightly as she smiled, and went about trying to transform it back, an even easier task.
Harry returned to his own task. He looked critically at the splinter of wood and imagined it taking on a silver gleam, and narrowing into a point. When he could see it clearly enough he pointed the tip of his wand at the match on his desk and murmured the spell. Just as he'd imagined, a needle emerged. Harry picked it up and rolled it between his fingers, it certainly felt like a real needle to the touch, but the end wasn't as pointy as he'd hoped it would be, and the hole for the thread was a little larger than most sewing needles. Nevertheless, he was pleased, and so was the professor, as she complimented him on his effort, "Well done, Mister Potter," before moving over to check on the next students progress.
When the class had ended, only 5 other students had managed to turn their matches into needles. The rest of the class seemed disappointed, but the professor urged that after reading some theory they would be able to do better tomorrow. On a happy note, the students departed the room, heading to their next classes. Harry stopped Hermione on the way out since she was on her own, "Hey Hermione. I just wanted to say, I know we were sorted into different houses and we won't have all our classes together, but maybe we could meet up and study in the library sometime? If you'd like, that is."
Hermione beamed in reply, "I'd love to Harry! I can't wait to start studying all the subjects more in depth. The theory is absolutely fascinating, and I've already read the first few chapters and - oh, sorry. I'm probably boring you."
"No, not at all," Harry gave her a small smile, "I've read the first few chapters as well. It'd be nice to discuss them with someone. Anyway, I have potions next, so I'll see you in charms?" The girl nodded, and they separated, Harry making his way toward the dungeons.
He arrived with the rest of the students, Slytherin and Gryffindor. They took their seats, the professor not yet in the room. Curious eyes around the room glanced at the shelves around them, stockpiled high with jars filled with questionable contents. The door slammed shut and the room gave a collective shudder. Snape stepped up to the tall podium he had in front of the class, and the wood creaked as he leaned his elbows on it to look down on them more closely. He immediately began taking roll and called off the names with boredom in his voice, going down the list. The man didn't stop at his name this time to antagonize, inflicing that rather on Ron this time around. "Mister Weasley. Another Weasley, wonderful. I do hope your potions equipment is clean. I've had too many Weasley's blowing up cauldrons with their subpar materials and I won't tolerate any explosions from you." He narrowed his eyes icely at the boy before moving on to the lesson.
Snape said his speech, just as Harry remembered, but the words sounded more hollow to him than before. When he had first heard it he'd had goosebumps on his arms, and his heart pounded, but his excitement was stolen short when Snape had called him out in front of the class. This time, he didn't try to take notes on the man's speech, merely listen, and the words meant less than before. Harry knew now that you couldn't bottle glory - though Felix Felicis certainly came close - and that you certainly couldn't put a stopped on death. The class ended with Snape telling them their work that was due by the end of the week: a foot of parchment on the properties of ingredients on their own and when put together. They were dismissed, and Harry was relieved for the free time the lunch period allowed. He was really supposed to go to flying lessons during this time, but that was one thing Harry thought he could stand to skip. He might lose his place on the Quidditch team his first year, but he didn't need any more teaching in the art of flying a broom.
Harry grabbed two sandwiches from the great hall before heading down to the Black Lake to relax. As he ate, he inspected the thin golden bracelet that was secured around his wrist. He hadn't been able to take it off, no matter how much he'd tried, but it didn't really bother him. It was strange, certainly, but the longer he spent looking at it, the less he wanted to remove it. Something about it felt very much like Hogwarts, very much like home, and while he thought that was rather silly since he didn't even know what it was, he was used to being drawn in by the unknown; he'd been drawn in by magic from the minute he'd been assured of it's existence.
His sandwiches were tasty, and he ate all but two bites of ham, throwing it in for the creatures of the lake. When he'd been down in the deep of the lake in his fourth year, all the merpeople and grindylows had looked emaciated, and Harry wasn't sure whether they had enough to eat, or if that was just their appearance. Picking up the rest of his belongings, Harry cast a quick tempus and realized he had to hurry. With a bounce in his step, Harry made his way back to the castle toward the DADA classroom.
The rest of the day passed rather eventlessly. DADA was a joke, just as it had been for most of Harry's time at Hogwarts. Quirrell stuttered his way through some personal stories about his time in Romania, and the students tried to nod respectfully while their eyes teared up from the abbrasive odour of garlic in the room. Charms went about the same as Transfigurations had, Hermione mastering the charm with ease, and Harry following soon after. As the rest of the students made their way to dinner, Harry decided to make his way back to his dorm room instead. He had eaten a lot for breakfast and lunch, and he wanted to get in a bit of reading before bed.
Harry sat down on his bed with a sigh and, remembering a spell from his everyday charms book, waved his wand to draw the curtains around himself. Secluded in his nest, the boy-who-lived summoned his potions book and set out on starting the foot of parchment that was due by the weeks end. As he began to fully read the theory behind the properties of ingredients when mixed together, Harry's brow furrowed. Not only did the properties change depending on how they were prepared, but the preparation method could greatly affect the properties of mixing that ingredient with another! Now that he thought about it, and looked through the diagrams, Harry thought that this actually made quite a bit of sense, and he didn't understand why he hadn't known this before. Potions was really just like cooking, and while he hated cooking for his relatives, Harry quite enjoyed cooking for himself. The only time he'd enjoyed himself during the trio's trip to hunt down horcruxes was when they'd settled in and Harry had made their meal for the night.
As Harry heard the rest of his roommates come in and settle down for the night, he felt his own eyelids flutter, weighed down by the need for sleep. His last thought before his eyes shut tight was that he would have to give potions a bigger effort than he had previously. If it truly turned out to be like cooking, Harry thought that he would quite enjoy this school year even more than he had hoped.