Hey everyone! This has been a long time coming eh? I apologize. I usually like to keep to the fandom I'm currently reading because that's where all my ideas go. That in combination with my many-month-long writing slump is what led to such a huge delay.

I'm glad that most everyone liked the opening. I'll try to keep things short here:

Now, originally the plan was to have Chamber of Secrets finished by chapter 5. Clearly, that isn't going to happen. Probably. As I've – hopefully – gotten better at writing, my chapter lengths have also gone up. It just feels strange when the chapter are so short now. I still maintain that not EVERY chapter will end up as monstrous as this. I had a set goal of ending this chapter at a certain point. It just took…slightly longer than I thought to hit that point.

Some parts are taken directly from the Sorcerer's Stone. No reason to change everything, after all. There are things Harry's disappearance and transformation wouldn't have affected. Mostly, it will be some speech from minor characters like the ghosts or the sorting hat's song. You should recognize it fairly well, but if necessary I will come back and italicize and cite the parts. It won't happen often.

Also, more clichés incoming. Frankly – at this point in HP's life cycle – what the hell hasn't been done once already? I at least tried to spin it in new ways.

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READ PLEASE

Now, one thing I feel is really important to address is how you all took in the characters. Some of you felt they were far too mature and a few others even felt that I was speaking through Harry at times (I'm looking at you, guest I couldn't respond to). And I'll admit, I guess I was a little guilty of that. However, I personally think you're off the mark in that interpretation. You're looking at Harry as a normal boy who went through personal tragedy and was very isolated throughout his formative years. That would be very true, except he's NOT a normal boy. Harry had a taste of power and he spent the next several years USING that power. He's been through multiple bloody battles with the Goblins at this point, and that's not even considering the fact that half of his very being is one of the most dangerous predators in the world. Is it any wonder he has unshakable confidence now, no matter the situation? He also wasn't in an information blackout throughout his years as a dragon. Maybe he had no wizarding news and information, but he did have muggle information. Sciences, literature, fantasy, etc. AND he has his parent's memories and the means to watch them. Looking at him as a normal eleven year old is a mistake. He ISN'T.

Similarly, Hermione was on the opposite end of that spectrum. I tried to make her the most vulnerable, and the most hesitant. (And also the most starved for affection, though more on that later.) Except in this universes, she found friends and she found them early. Friends who she is learning she doesn't have to prove herself to, and friends who are very much opinionated and 'in the know,' I guess you could put it. She'll definitely have her bossy personality from Canon pop up every once in a while, but here she is amongst equals. Daphne and Tracey fell in between the two, due to their own upbringing. Even as …err… liberal? As their families are nowadays, they were still raised as purebloods.

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So…Pairings! Always on the minds of readers…. For me to know and for you to find out. (:p) Though I'm certain most of you could probably make a guess at this point.

Now, some people seem to still think Dumbledore will be doing his standard fanon manipulating thing. Please remember that fanon is not canon. Yes, Dumbledore did some manipulating in canon, but not anywhere near to the extent seen in many fanfics, and nowhere near as maliciously. And many of the reasons FOR those canon manipulations are not actually present. (Harry is not a Horcrux anymore, for example.) So please, don't put your manipulative!Dumbledore into this story. It's not happening.

Now, I mentioned in Chapter One's notes that this is NOT the canon universe. Some of you seem to have taken that to mean that Harry is the only special snowflake of the story, and were even disappointed at Tracey and Daphne showing off their own powers. That it made him less special. Well, he isn't the only special snowflake. I already showed that off last chapter, and the idea should be pretty well slaughtered by the end of the first scene. If you think that he's going to be the only figure in the story getting upgrades, you're sadly mistaken. I like the idea of magic being grand, and in all honesty that rarely ended up being the case in canon. If you don't like the idea of rivals and even flat out enemies getting upgrades, then I'm probably not your writer.

Why is Harry's dragon form special? Or at least seemingly special? You'll find out later. I did actually plan this out you know.

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Now, I have some things to say:

First: my chapter/story progresses can be found on my profile. If anything gets abandoned, it will be on there. I like to keep it up to date.

Secondly: I would really appreciate it if you all don't leave guest reviews. I actually like engaging with my readers, and I usually try to reply. It gets irritating when I have something I want to say in response and I can't.

Finally: Bugging me for updates is not going to get anything updated any faster. This is a hobby. One of many, in fact. Plus I'm in college and have a job. My chapters are long. They won't happen overnight. (Well, they do, but not one night.) And they especially won't happen if I'm irritated and don't feel like writing.

This A/N ended up being way longer than I wanted. Bloody hell.

On with the show.

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CHAPTER II: IT WAS AT THIS MOMENT SEVERUS KNEW...HE FUCKED UP

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"Now that's a castle." Harry whistled in appreciation as he stepped off the train and into the early-September night chill. Indeed, the black spires reaching toward the heavens cut an imposing figure in the light of the moon. It was a fairly clear night, so the shining light of the half-moon was able to illuminate some parts of the castle.

"Yes…it is." Hermione was staring at the towering spires in awe, while Daphne and Tracey merely shared dual smirks. They likely would have been awed themselves, but living in pureblood splendor did diminish the effect it had on them.

Daphne however, lost her smirk as a sharp wind seemed to cut right through their robes. She shivered, "Blast, I wish we could just take the carriages tonight. I don't fancy falling into the lake in this cold." Tracey nodded her agreement, rubbing her arms to try to warm up.

"Fall in the lake?" Hermione looked vaguely horrified.

Tracey nodded, "Yeah, first years always sail across the lake into the castle. It allows the rest of the school to get there in advance to see the sorting. Usually at least one person falls in a year."

But anything that Hermione could have responded with was drowned out by a bellowing call of. "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Even Harry had to stop and gawk for a moment at the absolutely massive size of the man. He was at least twice as tall as Professor Dumbledore – who was the tallest person he'd interacted with so far – and could probably hide five adults behind him. His hands were probably the size of trashcan lids and his boots were like baby dolphins! To top it off, he had beady black eyes and masses of wild, bushy black hair complete with a scraggly looking beard.

"Holy…" Hermione murmured, "Is he real?"

Even Daphne and Tracey looked vaguely unsettled, "You got that right. He's massive!" They lowered their voices, "Too massive. He might be part giant!" She whispered to her friends.

Hermione stopped and gained an odd look to her face, before blushing minutely. Thankfully for her, none of her new friends noticed. The woes of being studious and friendless.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" Hagrid bellowed once more, before waving an arm as he turned and started marching down the slopes. Every step he took allowed Harry to feel a very minute tremor in the earth. He was the only one sensitive enough to feel it though, and it put his estimation of the man's weight – and quite probably strength – up a notch.

They followed Hagrid down a fairly steep path, taking care not to trip and stumble like some of the other prospective students were doing. Honestly, you would think a path would be easy to maintain with magic.

Finally, they hit the lake. It was black and still as the night itself, "No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid bellowed as he himself took the largest of the tiny, rickety floating tubs.

Daphne stopped Hermione as she made an attempt to step onto one of the boats, "I don't suppose you can make us a better boat, oh transfiguration wiz?" She smirked at Harry.

Harry snorted, "I know nothing of boats or sailing. I'd be more likely to make something that would capsize the second one of us stepped into it." He leered at her with a grin, "But if you want to get wet, I can always throw you in."

He snickered at her affronted look, "No thank you." She turned her nose up into the air haughtily and stepped in. Tracey and Hermione giggled and followed. Harry was the last to step in, and he noticed Hermione shivering a bit this time as he sat down with them.

He idly considered for a moment, before deciding to give them a hand. Very carefully, he unleashed some of his power. Immediately, the air around them warmed up enough that all three girls jumped. He eyed them smugly as they turned, "You're welcome."

Tracey smirked and latched on to his arm, "Warming charms? I think we'll keep you."

Harry chuckled, "Sure, let's go with that."

"'Eads down!" Hagrid yelled once more from the front of the boats. The ride had gone swimmingly, and no one had fallen in yet. He ducked his head as they passed under a curtain of ivy.

"I wonder if he realizes that none of us are actually tall enough to be touched by that." Harry snickered.

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Seeing as he told us to lower our heads, I doubt it."

They passed somewhat quietly through a dark, underground tunnel – possibly under parts of the school itself – up until they hit a sort of underground harbor. They all dismounted from the rickety boats, quite glad to be away from the likely frigid waters of the night. There was no path here, merely sand and pebbles.

"Oi! You there! Is this yer toad?" Hagrid addressed one boy in particular.

"Trevor!" The boy in question was a brunette, and quite pudgy for a wizarding child. Harry hadn't seen many of them, but almost none could be described as fat. Several people snickered at the genuine bliss in the boy's tone as he held his hands out to collect his pet. He flushed a bit as he heard the snorts, but visibly tried not to let them affect him.

They all followed the giant man up a slope until he came upon a door. Hagrid raised his meaty fist and knocked quite loudly on the wooden frame. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if he had knocked it off its hinges.

The door swung open immediately, and there stood the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid swept one of his hands in a flourish over them. It was a good thing he was so tall, otherwise some of them probably would have gotten slapped backwards. As it was, the front few felt a small breeze.

"Indeed. Thank you Hagrid. I shall take them from here." She opened the doors ajar and led the young children inside. It was a massive room that – if Harry remembered correctly – likely could have fit those bastard Dursley's entire house inside of it. Harry's sharp ears detected the rumbling and laughing of hundreds of voices already inside the school.

But Minerva led them to a smaller chamber, which they all had to squeeze into a bit tighter. "Welcome to Hogwarts!" She exclaimed, "The start-of-term feast will begin momentarily. But first, there is something you all must do." The young group looked shiftily around, doubt and indecision creeping into their hearts, "Before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses." She smiled tightly, "The sorting is an important ceremony because your houses will be rather like your…families while here at Hogwarts. You will take your classes together, sleep in the same dormitory, and have access to the same common rooms."

Minerva looked at them all evenly, getting a small wink from Harry. She held the urge to roll her eyes, "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has produced many excellent witches and wizards over the centuries! You will triumph and fall with your house! Your successes will earn you points, while your rule-breaking shall lose them! At the end of the year, the house with the most points shall win the house cup." She smiled at them all, "I hope you all will become a credit to your houses."

"The sorting will take place momentarily in front of the rest of the school! I suggest you all smarten yourselves up while you wait. I shall return when we are ready for you." And with that she swept out of the room and closed the door behind her.

Immediately upon the door's closing, the noise level in the room rose. Students started doing everything from chatting to frantically asking others what sort of ceremony they were about to undergo. Hermione herself was almost hyperventilating as she mumbled spells and other bits of knowledge under her breath. He even heard someone mention something about wrestling a troll.

He pulled Hermione into a one-armed hug, drawing her attention away, "Relax Hermione. They wouldn't just throw us into a pit and expect us to sink or swim. Remember that the houses are based on our qualities and that there are plenty of other muggleborn here."

"R-right." Hermione squeaked.

"Now, take a deep breath and be confident." He said, "You'll be fine." He scuffed up her hair a tad with a lazy grin.

"How can you be so calm?" She asked hesitantly.

Harry grinned, "It's just how I am." Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by screaming. He whirled around, eyes flashing. Then he stopped and rolled his eyes, forcing his blood to calm. It was just the school ghosts floating in. They were pearly white and transparent, almost as if they were mere smoke and vapor given form.

They were ignoring the students entirely, content with discussing something amongst themselves. One that looked like a fat, tiny monk was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –"

Another ghost – one seemingly from medieval times from his form of dress – picked up before the monk could finish, "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say! Who might you all be?" He finally noticed the first years.

"Excellent! Fresh students!" The monk – apparently named Friar – grinned down at them, "About to be sorted then? I hope to see you in Hufflepuff!"

"Well, nobody will be getting sorted at all if you don't get into the Hall to watch." A stern voice spoke up. Minerva had returned, "Move along. We're ready." The ghosts happily went through the walls and into the Great Hall. Minerva looked down at her new charges, "Form a line and follow me into the Great Hall. There, you will be sorted."

They were silent as they followed the woman into what was truly a Great hall. It was absolutely massive! There were four extremely long tables lined up in the middle of the hall with a smaller, but still quite large table up at the front on a raised platform. The ceiling didn't appear to be a ceiling at all, but rather a complex illusion showing off the night sky! Hermione excitedly whispered about what she had learned about it to her new friends, momentarily distracted from her nervousness. Hundreds of candles floated in the air. They were led up the middle of the middle two tables, up to a stool with a…grimy, patchwork hat?

Harry and his group, who were at the front of the line, looked rather bewildered. They all looked at each other with raised eyebrows, before a voice snapped their attention to the front. The hat jolted and a mouth ripped itself open. Harry's right eye twitched as the bloody hat began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

With that, the entire hall burst into applause, as Harry stood there with a twitchy eyebrow. A hat? A singing hat? They were going to be sorted by a singing hat? One that could see their every thought? He heard some kid saying, "So we've just got to try on the hat! I'll kill Fred! He was going on about wrestling a troll." He snorted at that, while the girls had amused smiles on their faces.

He didn't even have a chance to snark to the girls before Minerva unfurled the roll of parchment she had been carrying and called out, "When I call out your name, come and sit on the stool. I shall put the Hat on your head and you shall be sorted! Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced, blonde, pigtailed girl practically skipped over to the stool. The hat fell onto her head and practically swallowed it, falling over her eyes.

Harry whispered, "I hope it's clean, at least." Hermione and Daphne both shuddered, though Tracey snickered.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat called out grandly. Hannah beamed and ran off to the Hufflepuff table, which was the table farthest to the right. The Friar welcomed her grandly.

"Bones, Susan!" Minerva called right after, and immediately the redhead went to Hufflepuff with Hannah. She sat right next to the girl and received a tight hug. They must have been close friends.

"Boot, Terry!" And on the sorting went, with Terry going to Ravenclaw to the cheer of the house. Every name that got called up, had a house cheer for their new member – the Gryffindors the loudest, of course.

The first of their group to be called up was, "Davis, Tracey!"

The redhead smirked confidently and strode forward a few steps, allowing the Hat to fall over her eyes. 'You'll find I am quite clean, Miss Davis.' She heard the hat snark in her ear, 'But it is good to see the true ideals of Salazar Slytherin still hold in some of you children. Mixing Magic and Technology will certainly be a daunting task, in no small part due to the Ministry. You shall be remembered for a long time should you succeed.'

Tracey smirked, 'As if I have any doubt.'

She heard the hat's gravely laughter in her ear, 'That is what I like to hear, Miss Davis. Do try to keep that enthusiasm.' She felt it shift on her head, "And with that, there can be no doubt that you are a SLYTHERIN!"

She swiped the hat off her head and held it to Professor McGonagall with a smile, before winking over at her friends. Off she went, to the professor's call of, "Fay Dunbar!" who became a Gryffindor.

Hermione was still a little fidgety. Harry chuckled, "Relax, Hermione. It's just a hat to try on."

Hermione shook her head, "It's not that." She said, "With the way that jerk Malfoy acted, I'm just afraid that we won't see Daphne and Tracey too often since they're going to Slytherin."

Daphne smiled, "Don't be. There isn't all that much they can do to stop us." She let off a giggle, "If nothing else, we can just pretend to be trying to get close to this big lug." She smirked at him, using her best friend's words.

"Glad to be of use." Harry rolled his eyes, "You're up next Hermione. I'll just follow you into whatever house you end up in." That got a brilliant smile from the girl in question.

Daphne giggle again as Hermione shot towards the seat at a clearly excited pace, "You really don't care where you end up, do you?"

Harry snorted, "Not a bit. As if what color trim I wear on my robes will make a lick of difference post-graduation."

"GRYFFINDOR!" Yelled that hat from where it was perched on Hermione's head, interrupting them.

"Well, looks like I know where I'm going." He said needlessly.

Daphne looked kind of surprised, "I had her pegged for Ravenclaw with how intelligent she is."

"Bullying." He said simply, and comprehension dawned, "I could be wrong of course. Don't know how the hat works, after all. Maybe she was meant to go there, bullying or not."

Before she could reply once more, she was called up herself. Much like Tracey, she didn't spend more than a few seconds under the hat, before going to join her friend in green. And so, Harry was left alone. Name after name of wide-eyed, fidgety children were called. Some looked incredibly happy at their houses, while others looks confused or even disappointed. Harry could feel the gazes of both the students and the staff on them. It felt rather irritating. Finally, his name was called, and the hall went dead silent.

For a moment.

Then, hissing whispers started ringing through the hall, "Harry Potter? THE Harry Potter?" Came from all around, with the teens and pre-teens gossiping like…well…teens and pre-teens. Harry ignored it all with a roll of his eyes as he walked forward. Now identified, he even heard a few whistles. He almost smiled when he caught a whisper of, "Holy! He's tall!"

He sat on the stool without a word after giving McGonagall a wink. She very slightly rolled her eyes as the hall quieted down. They waited with baited breath as the hat went over his head. Everything was silent for a moment, as they strained to hear even an inkling of the conversation the legendary Boy-Who-Lived was having with the Sorting Hat.

They needn't have bothered, "Pfffffff." The hat sounded like it was blowing a raspberry, trying to hold in laugher. Finally, it broke and opened its brim wide in gut-busting, hysterical laughter. The hall sat in dumbfounded shock as the hat broke from tradition and openly cackled. Just when someone was about to ask what was going on, the hat spoke, "Oh, these are going to be a marvelous seven years! GRYFFINDOR."

Harry chuckled and bowed to Minerva as he headed to Hermione amidst the thunderous applause coming from the hall, or the Gryffindor table in particular. Harry grew irritated as everyone from the seventh years to the first years tried to shake his hand or just touch him in general. At first he offered people a smile here or there, but even that grew to be bothersome. A curt nod was all most of them got, and it made him seem a bit standoffish, or even snobbish. Quite a few of the students felt jilted, and Harry really could care less.

He sat next to Hermione with a real smile and decided to tease her, "Couldn't have picked a farther seat, huh?" She blushed as he inclined his head to the tall redhead sitting in front of them. A pair of redheads down the table were still shouting, "WE GOT POTTER!" He grinned up at Dumbledore, who was sitting in a rather elegant throne at the front of the room. Albus chuckled and raised an eyebrow, before inclining his head towards Minerva, who had turned a little red. Harry laughed and held up three fingers, counting down quickly.

When he put down the last finger, Minerva exploded, "Fred and George Weasley! If you two don't want to set a record for quickest detention ever given, you will sit down and silence yourselves!" Harry grinned in victory and Albus merely raised his goblet slightly with a chuckle. Very few people caught the exchange, but a fair number of eyebrows raised all the same.

The rest of the sorting continued without a hitch, until a very green-looking redhead who looked like the now-named Fred and George along with the redhead in front of them – did their mother really like children that much? – was sorted into Gryffindor. His older brother was rather pompous in his congratulations. He very nearly tripped running to go sit with the two twins, causing a few snickers to erupt at his expense. With "Zabini, Blaise," going to Slytherin, the sorting finished and Minerva took the stool and the hat away.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students – his arms opened wide – as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. "Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat back down. Hermione turned to him, "Is he mad?" She sounded rather confused.

Harry laughed and responded before even the redhead with the badge pinned to his robes – Percy Weasley – could, "Oh he's quite mad. That seems to practically be a requirement to be a good wizard." He would have gone on to say that the man was also quite brilliant as well, but he didn't get the chance to. Mountains of food had appeared on the table, and the delectable smell of succulent meats very nearly sent him into a frenzy. For a brief moment – the second the smells had hit his nose – his green eyes slit before going back to normal. His right hand gripped the wooden bench they were sitting on so hard that his fingers dug right in, destroying the wood. Only the fact that Hermione was literally right next to him allowed her to hear the crack over the excited din of the other students. She jumped slightly and turned shocked eyes to first his hand and then to him, "Are you alright?" She asked hesitantly.

"Fine." He grinned. His teeth looked sharper than normal. "Just fine, Hermione." He removed his hand and repaired the bench with a thought and a wave of his hand, before his plate levitated in front of him and started zooming about the huge table and collecting food. Jaws dropped all around and the whispers started as soon as people realized whose plate it was. Hermione merely smiled and started grabbing some food herself. Soon, Harry's plate had returned. It was completely loaded with rice, beans, eggs, bacon, and a few vegetables. Along with it, came the entire platter of beef ribs along with the platter of coulotte.

Everyone in eyeshot raised eyebrows and watched with increasingly morbid fascination as Harry's stomach turned into a black hole. They had chuckled at the start – too amused by the insane amount of food the boy was apparently going to try to eat to be mad that he had taken literally the entire platter for himself. They would get most of it back, after all. Right?

That amusement turned to incredulity as not only did he put it away, but started looking around for more. "Bloody hell!" Ron Weasley said, "Even I don't eat that much!"

"And let me tell you-" One of the redheaded twins said so loudly that the entire table could hear, "-If Little Ronnie here is saying he couldn't eat that much, that's saying something." Said 'Ronnie' flushed bright red and tricked to duck down into his seat.

"Did you fast for the past couple of days, Harry?" Percy asked him with wide eyes.

Harry laughed, "Oh no, I had a big breakfast." Jaws dropped even harder, "Ate some on the train too." Hermione looked incredibly amused as she remembered, "Take this as a lesson. Don't try to keep me from my meat. You might lose a hand." His eyes flashed as he grinned – showing his teeth were back to normal.

Hermione giggled, "Can you pass the mashed potatoes Harry?" Said bowl was about three feet to Harry's left.

He turned to her and grinned, "Grab it yourself." She looked shocked – and a little hurt at that. Several people scowled at the interaction. She had a sad look as she made to stand, but his hand on her forearm forced her back down, "Not what I meant."

The light dawned in her eyes and she sputtered, "But!"

"No buts. You can do it." He grinned wolfishly. She stilled, before gaining a look of intense focus as she stared at the mashed potatoes. She began trembling minutely, before she slumped with a loud exhale.

Percy – who was the only older member nearby – cottoned on to what was going on. He scoffed, "Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger here is just a first year and I believe she's also a muggleborn. Surely you can't expect her to-" But Harry had ignored the pompous boy, and the combination of Harry's reassuring squeeze and Percy's slight derision had galvanized Hermione. She concentrated again and the bowl wobbled. She gazed at it even more intensely at that and – before Percy's dumbfounded gaze – the bowl lifted. It wobbled, and practically tipped over in the air, but it lifted all the same. Slowly, it came to rest in front of her, and Harry caught it with his right hand. Hermione immediately sagged, looking as if she had run a marathon. Her brow was covered in sweat but she looked elated.

Harry's grin was contagious and she began smiling herself, "Potatoes, Ms. Granger?" She laughed and started piling more food onto her plate, suddenly looking ravenous. "Excellent! Eat up Hermione! As you've just discovered, you'll need a lot of fuel if you're going to be straining your magic!"

"My word!" Percy exclaimed, inserting himself into the conversation, "How did you do that?"

Harry smirked up at him, "I would suggest you not doubt Hermione here."

Minerva stopped behind them, "I would normally award points, but term has not yet begun. Excellent work, Mr. Potter. Ms. Granger." With that she swept away, and the finishing touches to the scene had every table trying to copy her success – with predictably varied levels of success.

Of course, over at the Slytherin table, Draco was loudly scoffing at her success, "So she lifted a bowl. Big deal. A mudblood is still a mudblood." The sneer was audible in his tone. Harry's sharp ears caught it and his eyes flashed in anger. But he wasn't the only one.

Tracey had a large smirk on her face, "Why Draco, why don't you show her how it's done then?"

The blonde snorted haughtily as she pushed a bowl to him, "As if I need to even try to do that." Tracey's finger glowed for a brief second before she hid it under the table, something some of the older Slytherins caught with light smirks. Draco negligently waved his hand at the bowl, expecting it to fly up.

It didn't. Several of his classmates snickered at his failure and flushed face. He growled and stared at the bowl, flicking his finger at it. It stubbornly stayed stuck to the table. He placed both hands on the table, increasingly red from the growing laughter of the Slytherins around him. Someone from a few seats down laughed loudly, "Well, talent has been known to skip a generation. A pity." He was one of the older students who knew full well what Tracey had done.

Draco's hands balled into fists and he yanked the bowl with his magic. Tracey's smirk widened as the glow on her finger disappeared. Draco, who had stupidly just been trying to move the bowl at this point and had unconsciously started pulling it towards him, ended up almost overturning the table as the squishy mashed potatoes crashed into his face, followed by the bowl. He went arse-over-teakettle and landed flat on his back. The table erupted, which pretty much ignited the hall into laughing.

Unfortunately, the high table had to do their jobs and moderate, "As much as I like a good laugh, doing so at the expense of others is not appropriate. I would hate to have to assign detentions before the term has even begun." Dumbledore said, causing the hall to quiet down. He even sounded stern under his quirked mustache, "Now if Mr. Malfoy is quite alright-" The blonde was back in his seat, looking like a steamed lobster. His designer robes had wet, off-color splotches on it. Daphne even wondered if he would start spitting fire, "Good, good. Please take more care in the future. We have an excellent nurse, but I'm sure she would prefer you not injure yourselves." He said, "Please enjoy the dessert."

The rest of the night continued with only a few incidents – such as Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington – or Nearly-Headless Nick according to Ron Weasley – demonstrating exactly how someone could be nearly headless. Several students did not have another bite, after that. Harry caught the eye of several of the professors. The one in the turban looked like he was afraid of his own shadow and kept wringing his hands together. The pale one in all black seemed to be emotionless, but the would-be-unnerving stare he kept sending Harry's way spoke much louder than a glare would have.

"Oi, Perry!" He called, causing the boy in question to flush.

"It is Percival, Harry." He sounded quite irritated.

"Right, Percy." If anything, that caused him to flush even redder, "Who is the teacher in all black?"

"All black? That would be the Potions Master, Severus Snape."

The fork in Harry's hand bent. "Severus Snape, you said?"

Harry had managed to hide the fork quickly enough, so only Hermione had seen it. Again, she gave him a wide-eyed look of shock. Percy though, just continued on, "Oh yes. He's quite the accomplished brewer. One of the best in Britain, I believe. Quirrel up there is right to look nervous though. Everyone knows it's the Dark Arts job that Snape wants." He looked around surreptitiously before leaning closer, "Isn't that great of a teacher though. Don't tell anyone I told you."

Harry still looked extremely tense, "Oh, I don't doubt that at all." He said darkly. He relaxed a little as he felt Hermione give his arm a little squeeze. As he looked at her worried gaze and the little dip her eyes did to his hand, he realized he was still clutching the mangled fork in his clenched fist. Before her eyes, it straightened out and he replaced it onto the table, and he gave her a smile of reassurance.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" She leaned closer to him and whispered loudly enough for him to be able to hear her, "And how did you bend that fork or break the bench?"

He chuckled, "You'll find I'm really, really strong. But yes, I'm fine." He turned his gaze back to the staff table, where Snape was looking everywhere but at him. His eyes narrowed at the man, before beginning to listen in to the other conversations.

"I'm half-and-half." A redhead was saying, "Me dad's a muggle, mom's a witch. She didn't tell him until after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock that was." The others laughed at the little story.

"And you lot think that's funny then?" Harry said sharply, causing most of the other first years to jump. The redhead looked a little lost, "Be grateful your dad was apparently an understanding bloke. He could have broken it off with her quicker than she could have said 'divorce.' Or perhaps worse." The redhead was just trying to make himself look small under Harry's intense gaze. Harry sniffed and looked away, and a much more subdued group of first years started talking at a much lower volume.

The pudgy boy from before – a Neville Longbottom – was the next to tell his story, "Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch." he claimed, "But the family thought I was all muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me. He pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once. I nearly drowned, but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased! Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

That almost set Harry off on another diatribe. He kept his snarl contained. This wizarding world wasn't any different at all, apparently. Only instead of hating him for having magic, an uncle was perfectly willing to torment and almost kill an eight year old just to try to scare some magic out of him. It was one thing to hear about it second hand, but to hear it from the horse's mouth – and from a family that reportedly hated Death Eaters and the Dark Arts with a burning passion at that – was an entirely other thing. It was as if his uncle thought he was better off dead than magicless.

What a joke.

Finally, the desserts – of which he had eaten none. All of that sugar seemed to make him feel a bit strange, and he was only smelling it. – cleared from the tables. Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat, "Well, now that we're all fed and watered, I would like to officially welcome you all for yet another year here at Hogwarts!" Clapping rang through the hall to punctuate his statement, "Now, a few notices for you all! Firstly, all First Years must know that the Forbidden Forest is not just a name. A few of our older students would also do well to remember that!"

A smattering of laughs rang through the hall. Dumbledore had been looking straight at Fred and George Weasley, who took a bow. "Now, for this year, an additional part of the castle is off-limits. 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." Harry grinned widely at the very pleading look Dumbledore shot directly at him.

"He really shouldn't have said that." Harry smirk was scaring Hermione, "Can't wait to explore it."

"Harry!" She hissed at him, "Did you not just hear him?"

"Hey, you chose Gryffindor." He teased, causing her to flush, "That means you have some sort of sense of adventure in there, and I'm going to make sure to drag it out." She pouted for the rest of the night. "Don't worry Hermione, I'll keep you safe." He reassured with a happy smile. His suddenly sharpish-looking teeth did not really help.

Dumbledore finally caught the attention of the hall again, "And lastly, Quidditch tryouts will be held in the second week of term. Anyone who is interested in trying out for their house team may speak to Madam Hooch." He clapped his hands, "And with that, we are almost ready for bed! But first, let us sing the school song!" He cried, and it became abundantly clear that the other teacher's smiles had become rather strained.

He flicked his wand, and a golden ribbon flew from the tip, winding about and twisting into snakelike letters and words. "Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!" The cacophonous, off-key cries of hundreds of students filled the hall.

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts!

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot!

Harry – who most certainly had not participated in the show – simply sat there with a twitchy eye. For someone with his hearing, that had almost been outright painful. When they finally finished – everyone had a different tune, and the Weasley twins had purposely chosen a slow funeral march – Dumbledore wiped a tear from his eyes, "Such a wonderful magic, music is. Now, off to bed!"

Harry and Hermione – who was looking rather tired herself – followed along with the rest of the first years up the windings staircases and long halls of the castle. Harry kept a close eye on everything, making sure to memorize the way they were going. Peeves – the school's poltergeist – attempted to whack a few of them with walking sticks, but Percy's threat of getting the Bloody Baron had him fleeing. Soon enough, they were at a portrait of a fat lady in a silky pink dress. Percy declared, "Caput Draconis," and the lady bowed and her frame swung, opening to reveal a large, homey-looking area. It was wide, circular, and decked out in red and gold tapestries. There were also plenty of squashy armchairs. Hermione thought it looked a tad gaudy in some places.

Percy directed the students to two sets of staircases – one on each side of the room – and informed them that they were the staircases to the dormitories. The tired children – sans Harry, though even he could use a nap – filed up without taking much more in. Hermione shyly gave Harry a quick hug before disappearing up her stairs.

Harry followed the rest of the first-year boys up to their room, and immediately grabbed the bed closest to the window. He undressed and hit the hay, closing his eyes to rest. Roughly half an hour later, his slit eyes snapped open and he growled in irritation. Two of his roommates – Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom – were snoring loudly enough to wake him. He got up – heat wafting off him in anger. He hated having his sleep interrupted – and cast a silencing spell around Neville's bed. He smiled in satisfaction as the sound disappeared. He repeated the same on Ron's bed, but his snores were actually so intense that Harry could still hear them lightly. He lay back in bed and threw one of the pillows over his head. The sound muted further, but then he realized he could feel a very tiny vibration on the bed frame.

As he settled in for a night full of wakeups, a small plume of smoke left his nose following a low growl.

-]|[-

"Victory." The Slytherin prefect said loudly and clearly, so that all of the new first years would hear it. "That will be the password for the first fortnight here. Remember it, or stand out here waiting for someone to let you in." The blank wall melted away revealing a long corridor filled with low, green light. They all came through, revealing a rather grand – if cold – common room. The hardwood floors were dark – nearly black – and were covered in green carpets. Even the windows were green, though further inspection revealed that they were actually under the lake. When the room was quiet, they could even hear a calming sloshing sound from the waters outside. There were plenty of chandeliers around, since they did need plenty of light for it to be a true study/common room. The chairs were leather, in predictable colors.

The same prefect from the train – Lucian Bole – spoke up again, "Right you lot. Listen up. You have all been sorted into the Noble House of Slytherin, and you will comport yourselves in a fitting fashion! Remember that we are a unit in here, and the other houses will hate you! If you have disagreements with each other, resolve it in here! Out there, we are all one house! I am not saying you may not ally with students in other houses, but you must keep this warning in mind! Am I clear?"

The rest of the Slytherin first years all replied positively, but Daphne and Tracey weren't really paying attention. They had already made the decision to not keep solely to their house. Tracey even yawned since she was kind of tired. Bole didn't seem to notice, "Good. Now, if you look around the common room, you will see seven corridors. Each of these corridors is for a certain year. The farthest on the left is the first year corridor and the one on the right is the seventh year. You will find your rooms there. You may all have your own room, or group up in any manner you wish. The magic of the dormitories will take care of that. There are always as many rooms as is wanted. We don't really care what you do, so long as you do so responsibly. If someone doesn't want to room with you, respect that or there will be issues."

Tracey fist pumped and hugged a smiling Daphne's arm eagerly, "Awesome!" She whispered, "I was really not looking forward to rooming with Parkinson."

Bole glared at her when he saw her whispering and raised his voice, "Do not interrupt me, Davis!" Her lips clicked shut, "Good. Now, each room will be Spartan. You will have a bed and a dresser, or one for each person using the room. You may decorate it as you wish. Each year, there will be less handed to you. Your bed will be less comfy, and your dresser will be tinier, and by the time you hit seventh year, you'll barely be given a tiny closet and it'll have no protections whatsoever. This is done to force you to study as well as to give you all some form of competition amongst yourselves! No one from another year is allowed to enter any other year's corridor unless there is an emergency, so don't bother asking anyone else for help!"

Daphne and Tracey smirked, while Crabbe, Goyle, and Bulstrode looked rather worried.

"Finally, on the subject of protecting your rooms; learn to do so early! No one wants their room vandalized! And yes, this is a warning that breaking into another's room to harm a fellow student in any way, shape, or form is strictly forbidden! Break that rule even once and you can and will be expelled! If you want to duel, we have a pit for that down that hall. A challenge must be issued and accepted. Now I would suggest you get to bed. Classes start early. Good night." And without another word, Bole turned on his heel and walked into the fifth corridor, leaving the first years alone amongst a small number of older students.

Daphne stretched and started walking to the first year dorm, "Well, I'm tired. Let's go to sleep, Tracey."

"Hold on a moment!" Daphne held back a groan at the sound of Draco Malfoy's voice. The few upper years left in the common room looked in interest. Every year, someone tried to make a power play to take command of the year-group, and it was almost always an interesting show.

Holding a sigh of annoyance back, she turned back, "Yes, what is it Malfoy?"

Draco looked imperious, "Let's get something straight, Greengrass, Davis. You're Slytherins now, so I better not catch you two with those two idiot Gryffindors." He spat, glaring at Tracey.

Daphne laughed darkly. Her hair lifted up, seemingly electrified. Her purple eyes lit up and pulsed, as though a storm sat behind them. "You think to command me Malfoy?" Draco unconsciously stepped back at the intimidating sight of the Greengrass heiress, immediately losing ground in his bid for power amongst the first years. She snorted, "Malfoy, you want to know the only reason those two "idiot Gryffindors" as you called them – one of them being the Harry Potter – aren't here in Slytherin?"

Malfoy blustered, "Oh please, as if the Golden Boy over there would ever come down here." He sneered, regaining his courage momentarily.

Tracey laughed in his face, "Oh, perhaps you're forgetting how he almost made you wet your pants on the train." This gained a few snorts from around them, "Or maybe you're forgetting how he got you in trouble with Bole over there, when you tried to get him in trouble." She grinned at his reddening face, "So let's get it straight Malfoy. The only reason Harry Potter isn't in Slytherin is because of displays like this and imbeciles like you."

Daphne's hand on her shoulder kept her from getting too much more insulting. Draco may be an idiot, but it was too early to start in on the personal insults, "You know full well what Harry Potter is capable of. He floated three separate items windlessly in the Great Hall and Granger – a muggleborn – learned six spells in just an hour and a half on the train." Eyes went wide all over the common room. A few of the older students sent startled looks at each other. The Purebloods – and most Halfbloods – in the room may hate Mudbloods, but even they would admit that was impressive. "You can antagonize them if you wish. Tracey and I, on the other hand, will be sitting with the actual talent tomorrow. Goodnight, Malfoy." She said with finality before turning and walking away, arm-in-arm with Tracey.

-]|[-

"What are they doing here?" Were Ron Weasley's first real words to the group around Harry and Hermione.

Daphne and Tracey paused in eating their breakfast to shoot the boy a look of disdain. "Eating." Tracey said flatly.

Ron's ears turned red, "I can see that." He said hotly, "I mean, 'Why are you at the Gryffindor table.' You should be over there!" He pointed a two tables over.

Tracey had a faux look of surprise on her face, "Oh, is this the Gryffindor Table? Wow, I had no idea! It was really impossible to tell, despite the scarlet on everyone's robes." Hermione briefly wondered if you could harness sarcasm as an energy source.

Ron's ears went even redder, "Yeah, so go back to your own table! We don't want any snakes here!"

"Actually, Weasley." Harry cut him off acidically, "Hermione and I invited them here, which is more than I can say for a certain someone interrupting our breakfast." The redhead's snoring was still ringing in Harry's ears, and it was making him want to go up and punch him right in the jaw. Ron flushed a bright red, "So why don't you stop bothering my friends and go eat your food." Ron stomped away angrily.

Harry stabbed another slice of bacon or ten with his fork and went back to eating, but not before throwing a smile at Daphne and Tracey. Hermione giggled, "Well, we're certainly making friends amongst our housemates." She had not missed the stewing blonde over at the Slytherin table. Daphne's smirk widened and Tracey let out her own giggle.

"So, what kind of speech did the prefect give you lot?" Tracey asked, before eating a strawberry.

"Speech?" Hermione asked quizzically.

"Yes. You know, welcoming you to the house and the like." Daphne responded.

Harry snorted, "He didn't. He just pointed us to the dormitories and sent us to sleep."

The two Slytherins stared, before Tracey pouted, "Lucky. We hand to listen to that windbag from the train prattle on about how the rest of the school was against us before that."

Hermione scowled in disgust, "They even push these dumb house rivalries on you from the very first night? No wonder nothing ever gets changed." She took a bite out of her buttered toast.

"Yeah, but it's easy enough to ignore. We're over here now, aren't we?" Tracey grinned brightly. "Still, after that we got to go to sleep. Our rooms are pretty cool! We can room in whatever way we like, and the rooms are entirely ours to decorate."

Harry cut her off, "What?!" She looked startled, "You can room in whatever way you like? As in, you can have your own room?" She nodded owlishly. He cursed, "Damn, maybe I should have gone to Slytherin."

"What do they do up in Gryffindor Land?" Daphne asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Hermione was the one who answered, "We're separated by gender and by year. We all room together. Harry is just angry that he didn't sleep much." She patted him on the shoulder.

"You didn't sleep? Why?" Daphne asked in concern.

"I have very good hearing." Harry deadpanned, "So good, in fact, that I could hear that thrice damned redheaded chainsaw's snoring through a bloody silencing ward."

Tracey burst out laughing and Daphne started to giggle behind her hand, "Oh you poor thing." His affronted look made them laugh even harder.

"Good to see students so awake and lively so early." Minerva's rather severe tones came up from behind them. She smiled thinly, "Your schedules, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter." She turned to Daphne and Tracey, holding out their schedules as well, "For future references, Miss Davis and Miss Greengrass, we only allow you to sit with other tables after the schedules have been passed out. I will overlook it this time, but please remember for next year. Your schedules."

Tracey and Daphne took them, looking sheepish, "Sorry, Professor."

Minerva waved them off, "It rarely comes up anyway nowadays, but it is in the rules. It just makes it easier to find all of the students to make sure they get their schedules. Other than that and the first and last feasts, you're allowed to sit wherever you like. I shall see you in class." She walked off to hand others their timetables.

"Hmmm." Harry smiled, "Looks like we all have Potions, Transfiguration, Defense, and Charms together."

"Very nice." Daphne smiled, "All of the core subjects. Looks like we have Herbology with the Ravenclaws though."

"We have it with the Hufflepuffs." Hermione murmured back, "Along with History."

"Is your stomach bottomless?" Tracey finally couldn't take it anymore and blurted out her question to Harry. He merely chuckled in response.

Daphne smirked, "Well, we don't want to be late. Shall we go to Transfiguration?"

"Let's!" Hermione said happily.

-]|[-

Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom burst into the transfiguration room and almost doubled over, "Oh thank Merlin. She's not here yet!"

Harry grinned in anticipation. Minerva didn't disappoint. The cat that had been sitting stiffly on the desk leapt off and transformed into a woman mid leap, "I beg to differ, Mr. Weasley." The redhead squeaked, "Perhaps if I transfigure you into a watch, you'll be on time."

"We got lost." Seamus mumbled. Neville wasn't going to say anything of course. He looked petrified.

"Then perhaps a map. Take your seats." She turned without another look and leaned on her desk with her arms crossed. As soon as Neville and Ron were situated, she began. "Welcome to your first Transfiguration class." She gazed at them, her eyes lingering on Harry's group for a moment, "Transfiguration is one of the most difficult subjects you will come across throughout your lives, and it is incredibly dangerous in untrained hands!" She stared directly at the three students who were late, "Anyone who messes about in here shall not be coming back! Is that in any way unclear?"

"No professor!" The class dutifully answered back.

"Good." She nodded, stood again, and turned. Her wand barely moved, and all of a sudden her entire desk and everything on it turned into a giant hog. The class clapped as the pig looked around in dumbfounded shock and before it could panic and start moving, it was back to being a desk.

The entire class was incredibly impressed by now, except for Harry. Unfortunately, he knew they wouldn't be doing that for a long, long time.

'Well, not in class at any rate.' He smirked to himself as the rest of his classmates nearly fell over when Minerva told them to take out their quills and parchment to take notes. He followed along with only half attention. Minerva noticed, but they both knew this early information was essentially useless to him so she didn't call him on it.

Finally, they got to the practical portion of the lesson, where they were to try to turn matchsticks into needles. Harry rolled up his sleeve, since it was rather warm in the room. The motion drew the attention of the three girls he had befriended, "Harry, why are you wearing a medieval-looking gauntlet?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Hmm?" Harry looked over at them, "Oh this? I liked the look of it and had it turned into a wand holster. And it's a vambrace, not a gauntlet. Those cover the whole hand."

Daphne was giving it a queer look, "That…doesn't feel like a regular wand holster. Father wears one and it doesn't feel anything like that."

Harry grinned, "It isn't."

Before she could say anything, Minerva cut her off, "Fascinating conversation that I'm sure you're having; but I would like to see some progress in your classwork." She sounded really irritated with them, seeing as their matchsticks were untouched. All three of the girls nonchalantly waved their wands and formed perfect needles. "Excellent. Take five points for each of you. And you, Mr. Potter?" He just gave her a look that said, 'Really?' Her nostrils flared, "Any time now, Mr. Potter." He held back an eye roll but lifted a finger obediently, "With the wand, Mr. Potter." She smirked at his affronted face, "You chose it. Now use it." The girls giggled, knowing exactly what Harry's wand was made of.

Harry grumbled but flicked his wrist and his wand snapped into his hand. With a negligent wave, the matchstick turned into yet another perfect needle.

Beat

And then the entire desk burst into brilliant white flames. Daphne, Tracey, and Hermione squeaked in shock and almost overturned their bench in their scramble to get away. Minerva waved her own wand and put out the fire almost immediately. Even though her face had barely changed, Harry could just taste the amusement rolling off the woman. "What was that?" Tracey squawked.

"My wand's a smartass." Harry deadpanned.

"Language." Hermione and Minerva both scolded him simultaneously. Minerva stared at him, "Two points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter. Do try to get that wand of yours under control." Several in the class started chortling at his apparent lack of control.

Harry scowled, and jabbed his wand forward. The slightly melted needle on the blackened bench formed into a matchstick once more, before warping again into a longer, sturdier needle. It was also clearly not made of tin, but of bronze. This time there was no fire.

Minerva gave them a thin smile, "Excellent work from the three of you. You may either practice turning the needle into different materials and sizes now that you've succeeded in turning it to tin – as Mr. Potter just displayed – or you may help your fellow classmates." The rest of the class was seeing mixed results. Some were able to change the shape but not the material. Others were succeeding in changing the material but not the shape. A few others had even managed a full change; one of them being Malfoy of all people. Perhaps he wasn't just a braggart. "In any case, as you've clearly demonstrated skill in performing the transfiguration, you have no homework. That is not an excuse to slack off. I expect all four of you to be able to show me three additional metals by next class. If you're going to chat, keep it quiet."

She turned to go check on the other students, but Harry stopped her, "Professor, may we speak after class?"

She turned back with a light smile, "Certainly. Just come by my desk when the bell rings."

By the time the bell rang, Daphne had completed five different metals, Tracey had managed four before getting bored, and Hermione had gotten in between the both of them in count. She was halfway to managing silver. Harry – by far the most advanced in the class – had gotten bored with metals and had started changing wood types as well as trying out bone. Not that the three ladies beside him expected any less after his display on the train. "Alright girls. I'll see you in charms."

"You don't want us to wait?" Tracey asked, "What are you going to ask that you think will take half an hour?"

He grinned, "Part of it is about sleeping. The other…well you'll see later."

"Well, if you're sure. See you soon Harry!" The three girls said their goodbyes and left with the rest of the class.

Minerva finally lost the rigid look when they were alone and smirked at him, "Still have that little fire problem?"

He rolled his eyes, "I swear, it's a larger ham than my other form."

She chuckled momentarily, "So, what do you need, Harry?"

"Well, I'd like to talk about two things. First, I talked with Daphne and Tracey and they told me that the Slytherins can room in whatever way they like. Is that something exclusive to the Slytherin house or is it available to the other houses too?"

She smiled lightly, "It certainly isn't against the rules. Generally though, the other houses prefer the current system, so it's rarely brought up." She chuckled lightly, "Actually, I'm fairly certain most of them don't even know it's a possibility. No one ever reads the charter."

"Interesting. Why is it set up the way it is?" He was rather curious. He didn't remember much about the social aspects of life back when he was younger – not that he would have had much to go on even if he did remember – but one thing that stuck out was that they probably wouldn't have let boys room with girls in the 'normal' world.

"Well, as you well know, the school is over a thousand years old and we witches and wizards really don't like changing things. Something like changing the charter would not be at all easy to push through."

He snorted, "Is there an understatement competition I didn't know about?"

Minerva looked vaguely relaxed. She was probably thankful that there had been no disasters so far, "Quite. Now, back when the school was founded, people were much more outright vicious. Blood Feuds had not yet been outlawed. That only came hundreds of years later. Because of this, it was written in the school's charter that the students would be allowed to room on their own if they liked, as long as it fell under other school rules. Additionally, arranged marriages were much more common in the past, which is why coed rooms were also allowed. Still, that aspect of it is rarely brought up nowadays, wat with marriage contracts falling into relative disuse. Either way, Slytherin turned it into a competition, which is why that house continues to make use of the system to this day."

"I see. So a room for myself is possible then?" He looked really pleased at the way the conversation was going.

"I don't see why it wouldn't be." She looked a little curious though, "It really doesn't take much effort at all. We just have to take the rooms out of stasis and link them to the dormitories once more. The Founders designed the system to be incredibly easy to maintain. I am curious though as to why you want a room to yourself. Especially after only one night. I thought you had agreed to get to know your peers?"

"I already made three friends." He said a little defensively, "Anyway, if I'm stuck with the other first years I'll likely end up eating Weasley." Harry chuckled.

"That is not amusing in the slightest." Indeed, her nostrils had flared, "Please do not joke like that."

Harry had not been joking, "He snores so loudly that – with my enhanced hearing – I could hear him through a silencing ward. Longbottom is barely better." Harry deadpanned, "I've been irritated all day as a result."

She blinked, "Well, he is a Prewett." She muttered in amusement, "Very well, a room will be set up for you by curfew. You will, of course, be maintaining it. I don't want to hear about it becoming a sty, understand?" He grinned and fist-pumped, "Now, you said you had two things to speak about?"

"Yeah, this is a pretty big castle but there doesn't seem to be enough students nor enough teachers to fill the entire thing." He started out, and Minerva nodded sadly.

"Indeed. So many lines ended in the past century. Grindlewald and Tom were not kind to the world."

He sighed, "Yeah, I know. But what I wanted to ask is if there were any abandoned classrooms I could steal for myself."

Minerva blinked, "Whatever for?"

He laughed lightly, "I spent years as a dragon, but I never said I spent all my time as a dragon. Occasionally, I took human form and went to visit the nearby areas – especially after I mastered apparition." Her eyebrow twitched at the reminder, "One of the activities I discovered that I got hooked on was something called rock climbing and the related sport of bouldering." He grinned at her bewildered look, "It was quite fun and it allowed me to work energy out of my system. I probably would have gone spare otherwise, when the goblins weren't trying to take back my hoard."

"Bouldering?" She tasted the foreign word in her mouth.

"It's exactly what it says on the tin." Harry grinned, "Natural rock faces have little imperfections and you can create climbing routes by linking them together. Bouldering is similar, but they're artificially made. I'd like to take over a room to create my own little gym. Otherwise I'll have to fly over to the nearby mountains every day."

She looked incredibly dubious, "Well, if you say so." Progressive she may have been, but she was still a pureblood. The idea of something like this was incredibly foreign, "Very well. There are plenty of unused classrooms. If it is about this size, will that be enough?"

He shook his head, "No, it definitely will need the inside enlarged. I read about the spell to do it, but it's a fifth year one. I haven't tried to cast it yet."

"Good. Even for you, that'll be above your pay-grade, as it were. And you should never attempt it in a room you're in unless you've mastered it, for future reference." Her eyes flashed, "I will be very displeased if I hear you've used it before consulting with me. That is an incredibly dangerous spell. Is that clear?"

Harry shivered at the ice in her tone, "Crystal."

"Now, how big of a room were you thinking?" She asked, back to her relatively warmer self.

"It'll have to be pretty big. There are plenty of different paths and even challenge heights that you can create. Plus I imagine a few of the students might end up joining me! Maybe about the Great Hall?"

She stared at him, "The Great Hall." She repeated in deadpan. He nodded sheepishly. She ran a hand on her cheek, "Albus can handle it." She muttered in exasperation. Harry grinned in victory, "Please try not to make me all gray by the time you leave here."

Harry laughed, "If my dad couldn't do it, what hope do I have?"

She rolled her eyes, "Dismissed, Mr. Potter. I'll see you in class in two days."

"Thank you professor!" And with that, Harry was out of the room.

Finally alone, she facepalmed and waved her wand. A silvery, glowing kitty flew out of her wand and out of the room. "Rock climbing. Honestly. That'll be Albus' headache, not mine."

-]|[-

"Hey." He settled in between Daphne and Tracey, who had left a spot open on the bench for him.

"Hey!" The seemingly perpetually-cheerful Tracey answered back with a small, one-armed hug, "So, what did you want with McGonagall?"

Harry was just as cheerful in his response, "Well, I talked to her about getting my own room. Apparently no one knows it's possible because no one reads the charter." He chuckled as all three girls blinked owlishly at him.

Daphne smiled, "Well, at least we won't have to deal with you being a grump in the mornings anymore."

"Oi!" He yelled in affront, before pausing. He had verbally bitten a couple people's heads off this morning. He winced, "Okay, maybe I was a little grumpy."

"Only a little? Weasley looked like a steamed lobster." Tracey teased with a sly little grin.

"Hmph." He crossed his arms and looked away, getting giggles from the three girls. Unbidden a smile rose up and he shook his head in amusement.

"Settle down everyone!" Professor Flitwick called as he got over to his desk. He was a very tiny wizard with balding hair and a big, bushy white beard. He was actually so small that he had to float up behind his desk to stand on a stack of books just to see over the desk. When he took role, he fell off his stack at Harry's name.

Harry inwardly groaned. He really hoped that little scene wasn't indicative of the man's teaching ability.

It wasn't.

"Welcome to your first class of charms everyone!" He squeaked excitedly, "Now, we are going to start off classes with a very simple spell! It is called the Color-Changing charm." He drew a proportionally tiny wand and gave it a little flick. Instantly, the dark wood of his desk turned a blinding yellow, "As you can see, this spell is…exactly what it says on the tin. This spell is a very good one to teach first years, because it starts to teach you how to vary the amount of power you put into it. If you would like the color change to last just long enough to give people a laugh-" The blinding yellow vanished upon the last word leaving his mouth and the desk was back to normal, "-then you can do that. Of course, if you would like a slightly longer lasting effect…" He smiled and flicked his wand towards himself. His beard turned neon green and the class burst into laughter, "-then you merely need to put enough power in to do so. My beard will stay green until the bell rings. Not a second sooner, nor longer!" He clapped his hands and was practically bouncing, "Well, go on then! The incantation is Muto Pigmentum. You merely have to think about the color that you want!"

Harry grinned and turned a predatory gaze on the three girls, "Ah, Harry…why are you looking at us like that?" Hermione looked like she wanted to run away.

He laughed and flicked his fingers. Instantly, Tracey went from a redhead to sporting purple locks, Hermione took Tracey's place as a redhead – more maroon than anything, and Daphne's hair turned a brilliant silver. "Harry!" They screeched in shock before pulling at their locks, much to his amusement.

Tracey turned to Daphne and her jaw dropped, "Oh that's so not fair. Your hair looks amazing like that!"

"Really?" Daphne stopped and took out a hand mirror. She admired herself before smiling, "Hmm, I may just keep it for a while. What do you think Hermione?"

"Tracey's right." She was tugging her maroon hair angrily, "It looks amazing. Why can't my hair be that silky." She pouted in jealousy.

Tracey grinned at her, "It is silky isn't it? We'll get you the potion Hermione. I don't use it myself because I like my hair, but it should at least make yours wavy or curly if you want." Hermione looked at Tracey as if she declared she was Morgana herself. She said nothing, and merely wrapped the two girls in a nearly painful hug, and kept whispering 'thank you's' in their ears. "Ack. Hermione! Air!" She let go, blushing, but Tracey pulled the two of them closer, "Now, how will our revenge on Mr. Potter here look?" She whispered loudly enough to ensure Harry would hear.

Hermione giggled and whispered in their ears.

"I regret nothing." Harry stated imperiously with crossed arms. All of his exposed skin was neon green with yellow and pink polka dots. His hair was as saturated a red as you could possibly get. His robes were blue, and his tie was brown. The girls sat smugly as the rest of the class howled in laughter at Harry's makeover.

-]|[-

The rest of the week passed in much the same vein, except the other classes were nowhere near as 'exciting' as the first two classes they'd had. Astronomy was done on a single day – Wednesday – and they had to stay up until midnight to even start the class. It wasn't much for Harry – who only really got irritated if he was woken up – but most of the other students were practically falling asleep on their feet. That in combination with the fact that there didn't seem to be any discernable benefit – so far at least – to learning the movements of the planets and the positions of the stars made it a much hated class.

Harry enjoyed it more than most of the other students. He had loved learning about space in classes, back before the incident. There was just something about nebulae and galaxies that just excited him. The cherry on top was the fact that wizarding telescopes were far superior to muggle ones of the same general size. No ground telescope of the same size built by muggles allowed you to count Saturn's rings. The girls shared the sentiment, though not to the same degree, other than Hermione. Amusingly enough, despite her fear of heights, she had been fascinated by space as a little girl and had wanted to be an astronaut.

History was a mixed bag amongst student opinions. On one hand, it was a complete and utter waste of time. The teacher was the ghost of a teacher who had fallen asleep in front of a fire and had gone belly up as a result. His ghost had gone on to teach the next day, not even realizing he was dead up until he had tried to write on the board and realized he couldn't pick up any chalk. That had been centuries ago, and it clearly showed. He had a droning voice that put everyone to sleep, was clearly bigoted against goblins – though Harry didn't blame him for that – amongst other creatures, and was really, really far behind the times. As he couldn't pick up a book himself, he only knew major modern events. Things that were talked about relentlessly, such as the previous war. So practically the entirety of the class was spent trashing goblins and their rebellions with a few footnotes about other major events. It was really a travesty that it was allowed to continue.

On the other hand, the block was basically free nap time. He was fairly sure Binns wouldn't notice if they were even in the room with the way he taught. He didn't even take roll.

Herbology was a flat out annoyance. Harry hated gardening regularly – the Dursley's had him plucking weeds for as long as he could remember – and they weren't even allowed to play with some of the bigger plants. It wouldn't have been so bad if they had the class once a week, but the bloody class took up three bloody blocks a week. That was time that should have been spent on spellcasting. Harry occasionally debated with himself on the merits of taking his dragon form and torching the greenhouses.

But where Herbology was tolerable – if barely – Defense Against the Dark Arts was utterly infuriating. It had been one of the classes that he had been most looking forward to, but it fell so utterly short of his expectations that he almost just up and left. Quirrel – the professor – jumped at every little squeak a chair made and was seemingly terrified of his own shadow. He had a very noticeable stutter and his entire classroom smelled like garlic – which was said to be to deter vampires. His turban – which he claimed to have gotten as a reward for getting rid of a zombie – reeked. This was on top of the class – even if you got past all the other shortcomings – being an utter joke. They focused almost exclusively on weaker magical creatures and what the effects of prank spells were. They were taught a few spells, but they were all basic and some of them amounted to pretty lights. Hardly what Harry expected and wanted out of the class, and the girls weren't really pleased either.

Potions was…interesting. Harry gotten the feeling from the Sorting that Snape hated him, and the feeling was very much mutual. He made sure to practically devour the first year text, since he was fairly sure that – if he was right about Snape – he would be getting singled out. Potions took place in the castle's dungeons on Fridays, fairly close to the Slytherin commons. That made it a fair bit colder down here than in the main castle, for whatever reason. They had magic so why this was an issue escaped him. Like Flitwick had in Charms, Snape started Potions off with roll call. And it was at that moment that Harry knew the gauntlet had been thrown.

"Ah yes… Mr. Potter. Our new…celebrity." Snape's voice was fairly soft, though it did nothing to disguise the coldness in his tone. Malfoy and his group snickered from where they sat nearby.

Harry's eyes flashed. Well, he certainly wasn't going to keep his mouth shut, "Sorry professor, I don't do autographs." He said as snidely as he could. Beside him, Daphne's eyes narrowed along with Tracey's. That was a very…uncharacteristic tone that Harry was taking with the professor. Hermione merely turned her head to him in surprise.

He hid his smirk as Snape's beady eyes narrowed, "Two points for your cheek, Potter."

Harry shrugged, "If you say so, professor." Most of the class stared at the two with slightly unhinged jaws. Hermione's rather urgent squeeze went unanswered.

Snape's nostrils flared, but for the moment let it go. There were plenty of opportunities later. He finished taking roll and stood firmly in front of his desk, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," He began speaking, and despite being barely a whisper, they heard every word. He certainly had McGonagall's ability to grab and keep student's attentions, "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, or 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, and even stopper death…" Even Harry had to admit the man had a way with words when it came to his subject. The students hung to his every word and his delivery was excellent, "If, of course, you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually am forced to teach." And then he ruined what was previously a pretty good speech with an utterly childish insult to every student in the castle.

Harry smirked inwardly, 'How petty. So, that's the kind of teacher he is huh?'

He crossed his arms and mentally counted down. He wasn't disappointed, "Potter! What would I get if I added a powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Hermione almost raised her hand, but Daphne's sharp poke made her reconsider. She looked at her currently-silver-haired friend – Daphne had liked it so much she kept asking Harry to do it every other morning – with a small glare. She just shook her head slightly.

"A bunch of useless powder." Harry snarked. Snape had triumph in his eyes before Harry continued, "However, seeing as that is the basic ingredient combination in most sleeping aid potions, I'll assume you meant in combination with other ingredients. Draught of Living Death perhaps? That one was mentioned near the end of the first year textbook."

Snape looked utterly furious, and Harry held his gaze calmly. "And where, Mr. Potter, would you go to look if I asked you to find me a bezoar."

This time, Harry just answered it. He imagined 'the ingredient cabinet' had been used before, "A goat's stomach would be the most likely place, though other animals can end up producing them too."

This one had been said perfectly politely, and yet it only seemed to make Snape angrier, "And what is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They are the same plant and also called aconite. I imagine the other students would like to get a chance to answer questions too, professor." Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

Snape visibly bit back a growl, "Correct on all points. Well? Why are none of you copying this down?" He snapped. This clearly wasn't the easily browbeaten Potter he had desired to torment. He had not only known the answers to every question Snape had prepared, but he was clearly unconcerned with points. Perhaps a night scrubbing cauldrons for some offense would be necessary instead.

He waved a hand and writing appeared instantly on the boards, "Today we will be brewing the Boil Cure. The directions are on the board. Do try to go a day without melting a cauldron." As they started brewing their potions, it became abundantly clear that not only did Snape hate Harry, but he also was a completely and utterly biased teacher that did not know the meaning of the word, 'impartial.' He swept about the dungeon like a giant bat, criticizing practically everyone except for Malfoy, who he repeatedly praised for his skill. The Gryffindors were terrified every time he came near them. Neville was trembling so badly that he looked like he would wet himself.

And it was directly because of this that Neville messed up a step. The potion in his cauldron turned an angry red and started to bubble out of control. It was rapidly heating up to the point that even the cauldron started to melt. An acrid cloud of green smoke filled the room. Then, it split open and ruined potion started guzzling out, spraying all over Neville who had toppled to the floor and was now moaning in pain. Angry red boils popped up all over his skin.

Snape was snarling, "Idiot boy!" He roared as he vanished the spilled potion with a single wave of his wand, "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" Neville could only whimper as more boils started to pop up. Snape made no move to help him, "Take him to the hospital wing." He spat at Seamus – who had been Neville's partner – before rounding on Harry, "And you, Potter, why didn't you tell him to take the cauldron off the fire? Thought it would make you look good if he got it wrong? Five points."

Harry's eyes lit up with the inner fire and the room instantly began to heat up, "I don't have eyes on the back of my head. How was I supposed to know what he was doing?"

Snape's eyes glittered in triumph, "Talking back to a teacher? Tut, tut. Clearly the fame has gone to your head. I think a detention is in order. You'll report to my office Saturday night."

The room heated up even more, to almost unbearable levels, and unfortunately Harry's friends were the closest. Their mouths went dry before Tracey took the plunge and squeezed his hand. The heat vanished as Harry jumped slightly. His eyes narrowed at Snape, but he reigned in his anger. He didn't want to harm the three girls, "Alright." He said simply, a relaxed smile on his face. He had asked Fred and George what kinds of detentions the man liked to give, and he was going to have fun with them. Snape's eyes narrowed this time, in suspicion. That was too easy.

Finally, the bell rang and the students were let out. They had just barely gone up the steps when Tracey and Hermione grabbed his arms and dragged him into an abandoned classroom. Daphne shut the door, "What was that?" She asked in agitation.

Harry looked amused, "You'll have to be more specific than that."

Her eyes narrowed, "Snape. That heat. It certainly wasn't a spell. Accepting the detention without a fight. Take your pick."

Hermione popped up, "Why did Professor Snape single you out like that Harry?"

He chuckled, "Snape singled me out because he's a childish, irrational little toe rag who was infatuated with my mother and utterly despised my father. Since my father married my mother and they're both dead, he's decided his schoolyard grudge falls to me." His parent's memories had been oh so helpful. Lily had been quite certain that Snape loved her, and it certainly explained his hatred.

The three girls looked like goldfish. Finally, Hermione squeaked, "Harry, you can't talk about professors like that!" Tracey and Daphne turned incredulous eyes on her.

Harry snorted, "I can call that bastard whatever I want." She looked very reproachful, "That man is no teacher." He snarled, and Hermione jumped, "He purposely singled out a student over a petty grudge on the boy's dead father. He insulted the entire class sans Malfoy no matter how good our potions looked. He didn't even give a basic safety lecture!" He was walking back and forth angrily, "Tell me Hermione, did you ever have a single year in a science class where they didn't hammer lab safety into your skull?" She looked down, and shook her head, "Not only did Snape not do that, he also didn't explain a thing about how any of the ingredients in our potion interacted! Hell, he didn't teach us a single thing! He put instructions on the board and spent the next two hours stalking about like a demented bat trying to frighten us into making a mistake! And when Neville did make a mistake, he insulted him and sent him off to the hospital with another first year who probably doesn't even know where the hospital wing is."

Hermione looked like she was about to cry at his admonishing. He sighed and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her. She let out a little sob, grateful that he wasn't really mad at her. She didn't think she could stand it if her new friends decided to leave her alone. Tracey rubbed her back and Daphne had a hand on her shoulder in support. Harry decided to speak again, hopefully nipping the problem in the bud, "Blind obedience and reverence is not intelligent and it definitely doesn't suit you, Hermione. Respect is earned, not given. McGonagall, Flitwick, Headmaster Dumbledore…they've definitely earned it. Snape?"

He looked like he was arguing with himself for a moment, before he pulled back so he could see all of their faces, "What I'm about to tell you does not leave this room unless I say otherwise, okay?"

Daphne's eyes narrowed, "You're not asking for a secrecy vow are you?"

He shook his head, "Your word is enough for this. I really don't care, but I imagine others I actually respect might."

"Alright." Tracey said, pulling Hermione away and wrapping her in her own hug, from behind, "What is it?"

"I'm almost completely certain Snape was a Death Eater." Daphne and Tracey choked, "There was no confirmation, but the letters my parents left behind for me more than hinted at it, since my mother used to be his best friend."

"What's a Death Eater?" Hermione had not yet gotten around to the books detailing the war in specifics.

"You-know-who's followers." Tracey spat, and Hermione paled.

"How is someone like that allowed near children!" She yelped in shock.

"Voldemort." Harry said and all three girls jumped, "Tracey and Daphne I would expect it from, but you Hermione? You're a muggleborn! Say the damn name! It's utterly ridiculous to fear a name. It's not like saying it will make him pop out of the ceiling!"

The girls still looked dubious – indoctrination was fairly hard to break, after all – so Harry continued, "Anyway, the heat is part of a big secret." He winked at them, hopefully putting them off edge, "So that's for me to know and for you to find out eventually." He stuck his tongue out playfully at them, much to their affront, "And as for me just accepting the detention?" He smirked and started cackling faux-maniacally, "Oh, I'm going to enjoy it."

Despite themselves, the girls could only giggle at his antics.

-]|[-

Snape was hiding a dark smirk as Harry entered the dungeon, "Potter." Was all the greeting he would give the boy, who merely nodded in his direction, "Tonight, you'll be scrubbing out these cauldrons." He gestured towards the cauldrons he had sitting on the floor by his desk. He had made sure to make them as gunked up as possible. Most of the messes were quite easy to simply vanish, but scrubbing them would take more than a little effort. "You will, of course, not be using magic. Well? Get to it!" He finally let himself smirk in triumph at the boy.

"Alright." Harry said, an easygoing expression plastered on.

"I suggest you put some muscle into it. They're rather…caked up. I suggest you start with that one." He pointed out an extra-large sized silver cauldron. It was one of his very favorites, and he did actually need it for some brewing in the morning, so he wanted to make sure it would be clean. It was also the only one he had made sure to mess up with particularly aggressive mixtures, to make sure no accidental magic from the frustrated brat would help.

Harry almost laughed in glee, but he made sure to keep his face expressionless as he grabbed the rather expensive-looking cauldron and set it on its side on a desk. He grabbed the wet steel-wool Snape had provided and made a show of lightly (well, lightly for him) scrubbing at the filthy cauldron. It was almost as big as his torso and the inside of it was completely coated in black gunk. Even the relatively small amount of strength he used made small bits scrape off. 'This would probably be hell for a normal first year.' He realized, which was probably why Snape enjoyed it so much. He made of show of ramping up his efforts.

"Come now, Mr. Potter, you won't make any headway that way." Snape said silkily, looking up from where he had begun grading some fifth year work, "Put your back into it."

Harry smirked from behind the rim and closed his hand into a hard first, making sure the steel-wool was firmly in his grasp. With a grunt of exertion, he thrust his hand forward and punched straight through the shiny, silver cauldron. Its bottom exploded outward, warping into a jagged mockery of a cauldron bottom. Snape could only gape for a moment as the information trickled into his brain. He turned almost puce, before roaring, "POTTER!"

Harry removed his arm from the broken cauldron, plastering on a faux look of shock and remorse, "Oh, I'm so sorry professor. I didn't think cauldrons were so flimsy."

Snape sprang up from his chair, practically spitting at the boy, "Headmaster's office! NOW! I'll see you expelled for this!"

"Lead the way, professor." It was clear from the brat's smirk that he had acted a hundred percent on purpose.

-]|[-

"I WANT HIM EXPELLED!" Snape roared at the old man sitting behind a rather gorgeous-looking desk.

"Yes Severus, you've said that already." Albus sighed in irritation, "Now am I going to be getting a reason for said expulsion?"

Severus snarled, "He is completely and utterly disrespectful! Not two minutes into class and he was telling me he wouldn't sign an autograph during roll call. As if I would ever want such a useless thing!" Harry sat in a simple chair in front of the headmaster's desk, looking altogether too pleased with himself, "He talks back to his professors! He didn't help his classmate which caused one if the cauldrons to explode and sent a student to the hospital wing! Then, when I gave him detention, he completely ruined one of the cauldrons I had him scrubbing! He ripped a hole right through it!" He had liked that cauldron! It was expensive!

Albus let out a long-suffering side, "Very well. Harry, may I hear your side of the story?"

"His side?" Snape's eyes bugged out in rage.

"Yes Severus, his side." Albus said sharply, his head snapping to the dark-haired man's pale features, "That is generally how these things are done. Harry?" He turned once more and prompted the dragon in human form.

"Well, my interactions with professor Snape over here started at the Welcoming Feast, where he spent the night glaring at me from the top table. This continued into my first class with him on Friday, where he singled me out during roll call referencing my celebrity status and then again by asking me three questions in a row from all over the assigned text – all from farther chapters in the book – in a clear attempt to embarrass me." He smirked, "He visibly became angry when I answered them correctly, assigning no points. He then slapped a recipe on the board with no safety lecture of any sort and told us to brew. He continued stalking about the room-"

"Of all the petty, arrogant-" Snape started to snarl, but Harry stood – heat blazing from him like a furnace – and roared back,

"The only petty one here is the Death Eater taking out a schoolyard grudge on the son of a dead man!" Snape reared back as if slapped, paling to the color of curdled milk, "Oh yes, I know all about that little tattoo on your arm, Snivellus. My parent's letters and memories made sure of that! I can assure you my mother hated you as much as you hated my father!" Snape was trembling like a leaf, looking as if he'd had a rug pulled out from under him.

"Harry!" Dumbledore snapped when his mind caught up to the surprising revelation.

Harry drew back, rearing his aura in once more, "I'm sorry professor. That was a bit too far." He said.

"That will be an actual detention and twenty points. Additionally, you'll have to wait another week for your request." Albus said in still seriousness. "No matter your opinion of him, he is still a teacher!"

Harry nodded, accepting his punishment without a word of protest, "As I was saying, Professor Snape then went around the room, insulting every potion there – no matter how well made – except for the one made by Draco Malfoy. He was especially vicious towards Gryffindors. Neville Longbottom was so terrified of him that he made a mistake on his potion and it blew up his cauldron! The potion got all over him and caused boils to pop up all over his skin. The professor didn't so much as apply a dulling charm for pain before sending him and another first year to the infirmary, without even checking to see if they knew where the infirmary was. He then single me out once more, blaming me for Neville's mistake despite me sitting in front of him. There was no way I could have seen it happen without eyes on the back of my head, and when I told him that, he gave me detention."

Albus resisted the urge to rub his temple, "I see. What happened during your detention?"

"Professor Snape had me scrubbing cauldrons clean. The first cauldron he gave me to clean was an extra-large one made out of silver." He almost smirked when Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. Though he didn't know why, clearly that fact was important,

"There isn't a single potion below NEWTS that uses a silver cauldron, and none which are brewed this early in the year." Albus said, turning a gimlet eye on Severus, who was actually staring at nothing.

"I did not know that," Harry said truthfully, "But it is more evidence of his grudge against me. That cauldron was so caked up that it could only have been messed up on purpose. As we saw in class, even the simple Boil Cure will melt the cauldrons if you screw up badly enough. Either way, he told me to scrub it by hand and told me to – I quote – 'Put some muscle into it.'" Dumbledore bit back a groan at Harry's entirely too-innocent look, "I'm afraid it was a lot more flimsy than I thought it would be."

Albus sighed, "Very well. As you have already been punished, you may leave. Have a good night." That got Snape to start up again, but before a word could leave his mouth Albus' gaze snapped to him, "Severus, you stay."

Harry had barely closed the door behind him before Mount Severus erupted, "WHAT! You're going to let him go after calling me a Death Eater right to my fa-"

"SEVERUS SNAPE!" Dumbledore literally thundered. The lights in the room dimmed and there was even a loud rumble. Snape squeaked in shock, having never seen Dumbledore take that tone with him, "You are entirely at fault in this situation!" He stood and clapped his hands onto the table, "I have never heard of such a degree of sheer unprofessionalism in my entire career as headmaster!"

"But-"

"But nothing! I warnedyou Severus!" Albus said tiredly, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes, "I warned you not to antagonize that boy! And what do you do? Your very first lesson, you have an altercation with him that leads you both to my office! Your first lesson! You didn't even try to look past his father! He is not James, Severus!"

Snape scoffed, "He may not be James Potter, but he practically oozes the man's arrogance! He called me a Death Eater to my face!"

"You were a Death Eater." Albus said flatly, "And when you gave that up you swore you would protect Lily's son!" Snape cringed at her name, "And instead, you spend your first meeting with him baiting him and trying to get him expelled!"

"I-" Snape started to say but Albus didn't let him get a word in edge-wise,

"Will be monitored on your point-taking and detention issuances for the entirety of the first term." Albus cut him off and the man choked, "I have gotten complaints about you before Severus, but have ignored them fairly often as what few students make it into your NEWT classes usually make very good brewers." Snape preened momentarily, almost against his will as he knew what came next would be nowhere near as flattering, "But I have never gotten a complaint such as this. Your first class should have been entirely on safety! I know for a fact that you were taught that way!" He took off his glasses and cleaned them, "You have gotten entirely too used to your status over your students, and I have been too busy and harried to notice. You will clean up your act or my next action shall be to put you on probation."

Snape's jaw was set and his teeth were nearly grinding, "Yes sir."

"See to it that this does not happen again. I do not want to see you in here again with Harry Potter. Is that clear?" Snape nodded stiffly, "Good. Your next class for every year shall be on basic safety and the next two shall be on common reactions between ingredients. You have apparently forgotten that not everyone has your ability with potions! It is no wonder so few students manage to make it to your NEWT classes! I had erroneously thought that there was just decreased interest in the subject. It's happened in the past after all. Not every generation is interested in the same things. Now that I know you've been remiss on these details, I better see a corresponding increase to your student's practical grades!" Snape was practically shivering under his intense glare, "You may go."

Snape angrily stalked out of the room and slammed the door shut with a bang. Albus sagged in his chair with a tired groan and relaxed, "I'm too old for this shit." A musical, beautiful trilling came from Fawkes, his phoenix. "What do you mean I'm not old enough to be saying that you blasted bird? Come off it." He grumbled, much to the immortal firebird's amusement.

-]|[-

The excitement of the next week came in a couple forms. First, when Daphne got her Daily Prophet subscription that Monday, she almost spat out her morning milk. "Someone broke into Gringotts?!" She gasped incredulously.

Tracey sounded just as shocked, "What dead idiot tried that?"

"It doesn't say…" Daphne murmured, before her eyes bugged out, "They didn't catch him!" She gasped, "Someone actually broke in and didn't get caught! Here." She laid the paper for them all to read.

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 August, 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 a few weeks earlier. "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.

"I can't believe someone got in and out. The Goblins have been especially vicious the past couple of years." Harry smirked behind his hands. Oh yes, they had.

"Nothing was taken though." Harry pointed out, "Thief must have the crappiest luck, choosing an empty vault."

Tracey sniggered, "You're right. That's actually pretty funny." The excitement of that particular story over, they put it from their minds and did not think of it for a long time.

Classes went by without incident, up until Thursday. That day was to be their first flying lesson, and one of either two things was in the air; excitement or terror. There really was no in between. You had everything from Malfoy of all people talking about dodging muggle helicopters on his broom – how the devil did he even know what a helicopter was, much less use both the word and the machine correctly – to Neville desperately hanging on to Hermione's own – very, very nervous tips acquired from Quidditch Through the Ages – in an attempt to learn anything that would help him stay seated on his broom.

Turned out that the students fell into one of two categories; either afraid of heights or not, and Hermione definitely was. She kept annoying the rest of their group with her tips, up until Harry had pulled her aside, "Hermione, stop it."

She blinked owlishly, "But-"

"Hermione." He said in bemusement, "You're only making yourself more terrified with all this worrying." She blushed, "Flying is not something you learn from a book. Shocking, I know." He said with dry amusement at her expression, "Stop thinking about it. It is okay to admit fear, and it is okay to not be the best at something. You're not going to get anywhere like this. You're just making it so that when we get to the actual lesson, you're going to be so wound up that you're going to make yourself fall."

"But I-" She started, but he rolled his eyes and pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back with his hand,

"Honestly, surely you've heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy before. That's exactly what you're doing! Just relax and let it come naturally. You don't have to fly perfectly your first time."

"How can you not be terrified!" She squeaked almost hysterically, "It's just a flimsy piece of wood without any safety mechanism!"

He laughed at the thought. Him, being afraid of flying, "Long story short, I've flown before. Besides, falling from great heights is utterly irrelevant to us. Don't you remember Neville's story from the Welcoming Feast? An eight year old fell out of an upper story window and he wasn't even injured! If we fall, either we'll cast a cushioning charm on ourselves or someone else will do it for us. There's a Quidditch move that involves playing chicken with the ground, and the most anyone ever gets out of it is a concussion or maybe a broken bone! The game itself involves whacking and getting whacked with bloody cannon balls! Wizards and Witches are not made of the same stuff as regular humans. We're inherently tougher, whether through magic or through biology. What would kill a regular human would probably only break a bone for us."

And that was what finally made her relax a little, much to the relief of her three friends. Thursday dawned bright and clear, and nothing of note happened until the owls flooded the Great Hall with packages, "Oh! Gran sent me a remembrall!"

"What is it?" Harry asked Neville curiously.

"It's something for people who forget stuff easily." He explained, "Look, you hold it like this and if it turns scarlet – oh…" The formerly white gas inside the glass-like sphere had turned a blinding red, "You've forgotten something." Hermione couldn't really tell if he sounded resigned or depressed.

Harry snorted, "How useless. What's the point of the bloody thing if it doesn't tell you what you've forgotten? How often do you see people talking to someone who forgets what they were going to say? How often does knowing you've forgotten something help you actually remember it?" He sounded rather abrasive, and Neville wilted even more.

"Harry!" Hermione admonished, much to Daphne and Tracey's hidden amusement, "It was still a gift!"

Harry shrugged. He didn't honestly care. He finished eating and led the rest of them over to the courtyard, where there were two rows of brooms spaced out on the grass. Madam Hooch – a grey, hawk-eyed lady – was waiting for them. Most of the other Slytherins were also already there. "Well? What are you waiting for? Everyone get to a broom! Come on, hurry up." Harry made sure to be in between Hermione and Neville, just in case. Daphne and Tracey were both to her left. "Now, I want you to stick your right hand over the broom and say 'up!'"

Harry rolled his eyes. What if they were left handed? Nonetheless, he complied, "Up." The broom instantly snapped into his palm. His was one of the few that did. Both Daphne and Tracey had been around them all of their lives, so theirs quickly followed his. Hermione's rose halfway before falling, and Neville's didn't move at all. Seamus's broom was apparently defective and beaned him right in the nose, sending him to the floor. Malfoy's flew up and smacked into his palm so hard that it almost injured him. He laughed, "Man, these brooms suck."

"They're school brooms. What do you expect?" Tracey laughed along with him.

"That doesn't exactly inspire confidence." Hermione quaked next to them as she finally managed to get it into her hand.

"Then just stay near the ground. You'll get more comfortable eventually." He grinned roguishly at her, "Just dig deep and pull that Gryffindor out of you."

"Right." She said, taking a big breath, "Gryffindor!"

Her friends could only laugh in amusement. Finally, the rest of the class was ready, and Hooch began going around correcting grips. Harry's group along with the rest of the Gryffindors were utterly delighted when she insulted Malfoy's grip and told him he'd been doing it wrong for years, "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard! You'll keep the brooms steady and rise a few feet, before leaning forward and coming back down. On my whistle! Three, two-" But Neville had been as jumpy and frightened as Harry expected him to be and had kicked off early. He rose very fast, but not before Harry's hand shot off like lightning and grabbed the back of his robes. With a minor grunt, he hauled the boy back to the ground. "Nice work Potter!" She said approvingly, "Longbottom, you can stay on the ground for now if you wish. I'll work with you personally."

Neville looked utterly relieved as he dropped the broom like it was a slug and moved away from it.

"Now, go!" She blew her whistle, and gaped as Harry completely and utterly disregarded her instructions. The rest of the class – even Malfoy – were floating about five feet off the ground steadily. They gasped as Harry twisted the broom so hard that he went vertical, shooting off into the air as fast as the broom would go. And for a brief moment – as the air howled past his ears and his hair fluttered in the rushing wind – he thought he had found another connection with his father.

It wasn't to be. As he leveled out, he was frowning. There wasn't any exertion. His body barely moved really. There was no great speed the way he loved. The air didn't howl as his wings created a hurricane.

It was just a flying stick. There was no freedom. No enjoyment. And no matter how he pushed the rickety old broom, much to the awe of the students floating near the ground or Hooch's appraising eye, he couldn't get any enjoyment out of it. He went back to the ground and dismounted, practically throwing the broom away, "That was so boring…" he declared, much to the utter shock of the entire class.

"B-BORING?" Hermione shrieked hysterically as she lunged for him, "I thought you were going to break your neck!"

"Yeah." He frowned, "It was just so…restrictive and dull."

"They are rather old brooms, Mr. Potter," Hooch began as she floated next to the hugging duo, "Newer models are much faster and maneuverable, I assure you."

"Indeed." A new voice popped up from behind them, "And if you put on a show like that on such a rickety broom, I can hardly wait to see you on a newer model. No doubt you would be the best seeker in a long time. You're a natural." Minerva was approaching with an almost manic grin on her face.

Harry frowned, "I think I'll pass." He said dryly, wiping the look off of Minerva's face, "Sorry professor, but I didn't enjoy that at all." He mumbled under his breath, but Hermione was close enough to hear him, "It just wasn't the same."

Minerva looked heartbroken, "If you're certain, Mr. Potter." She sighed in depression. She supposed that when one was a dragon, a broom would feel lackluster. She had been looking forward to seeing the Quidditch trophy in her office, "Enjoy the rest of the period children. Rolanda." She nodded to Madam Hooch and left, her shoulders slightly slumped. Harry actually felt a little bad, but he wasn't about to force himself into flying a crappy broom because of it.

For the rest of the class, he just went around helping first his friends and then a few others with some tips. When they left and the girls were able to get him alone again, Hermione led the mini-interrogation in asking, "Harry, what did you mean by it 'Not being the same' in class earlier? Did you fly something other than a broom?"

He merely grinned, and Tracey deadpanned, "Let me guess, it's a secret." It was not a question.

Harry laughed, "Don't worry girls! You'll probably find out all about these secrets eventually. Most of them are tied to a single thing." He grinned in amusement at their irritation, "Tell you what. If you can guess what the secret is, I'll even confirm it for you." The brilliant girls in front of him lit up with evil smirks. They would have that secret figured out by the end of the night.

-]|[-

They did not, in fact, have his secret figured out by the end of the night. Oliver Wood, on the other hand, definitely heard about the brilliant seeker-to-be who refused to get on a broom over a minor thing like 'not enjoying it.' "YOU WHAT?!" The thunderous cry of sheer incredulity rang out in the Great Hall during supper, "Why would you refuse to be a seeker!" He flapped his arms hysterically, "We need a seeker!" He implored on his knees and hands clasped in front of the irritated Harry and the definitely-amused ladies.

"Because I didn't enjoy it. Now buzz off." He snapped and turned back to his heaping plate of meat. But Wood didn't move.

He just sat behind Harry and kept whispering, "Please." The girls beside him giggled.

"Wood." Harry said, faux-pleasantly, "If you do not leave, I will throw you to the other end of the table. And let me assure you, I am strong enough for that."

"No need." Minerva's voice popped up behind them, making the group turn, "Wood, stop making a fool of yourself and go eat. Mr. Potter is getting rather irritated at you, and if I know him half as well as I think I do, he would agree to play and then sit on the pitch reading a book just to spite you." Wood looked entirely too horrified.

"Not a bad idea." Harry mused with an evil grin, "I was actually thinking of hiding his broom and pads on game day instead. Or filling them with itching powder."

"You monster!" Wood ran away screaming.

Minerva almost smiled, "Mr. Potter, the Headmaster asked me to tell you to show up to the third classroom on the fifth floor on Saturday. He should have your request finished by then."

Harry grinned madly, "Thank you professor! I've been going kind of spare waiting for it!" She nodded to him with a light smile and left.

"What request?" Tracey asked curiously. She had not seen very many things get Harry to grin like that.

Harry rubbed his hands together, "It's one of my hobbies. You'll see on Saturday." He sent them a smile, "You're welcome to join me of course, though I'm not sure if you would be interested." He very deliberately phrased it as a challenge, and got the narrowed eyes he wanted to see.

But before they could get another word in, their night took a turn for the worse, "So Potter…" Draco's whiny tone came up behind them. Harry rolled his eyes and turned to face his cousin, "You think you're so special, don't you." He spat.

"What exactly are you on about, cousin?" Harry asked, "And can you get on with it? I'd like to finish eating."

Draco sneered, "You must think you're so great, flying and then acting like a spoiled child and refusing a spot on your team. Like to make everyone else look bad, huh?" Harry stared dumbly at him. Was this real life? Was there a camera somewhere? Draco Malfoy talking about being a spoiled child and making people look bad…?

"Is there something you would like to actually say, or are you done wasting our time?" He finally responded.

Draco had a triumphant look in his eyes, "I'll take you on any time, Potter. A wizard's duel, at midnight. Wands only. No contact. The trophy room is always empty."

Harry couldn't help it. He just laughed loudly, "I don't have time to waste with a coward like you. What was your plan cousin? Get me to agree and have a staff member show up to catch me out of bounds?" Draco's angry flush was a tell-tale sign, "It was. How uninspired. I thought you were supposed to be a Slytherin." He grinned darkly, "Though I supposed that would make sense, wouldn't it? A coward like you wouldn't have the balls to face me for real. If you want to get destroyed, we'll do it officially in the pits." Draco had paled, "So what's it going to be, cousin?"

Draco was trembling in silent rage. Harry waved him off as he turned away dismissively, "Come back when your balls drop, coward." The rest of the table stared at him owlishly. He blinked, "What?"

Fred and George looked awed, "I've never seen someone derail a Slytherin so quickly and easily." Fred said dreamily.

Harry snorted, "Draco isn't complicated. He thinks the world runs on money and that anything can be bought. That he's untouchable." He smirked. The goblins had thought that too, "He's trying the play the game the way he was taught. The way all of them were taught." He turned a slight smile at Daphne and Tracey, who blushed, "They were taught a certain way. Certain rules. Certain expectations. And what's the best way to derail someone like him?" Other than becoming a fire breathing dragon and eating them, of course.

Daphne laughed suddenly, finally figuring out what he had meant on the train, "You flip the board."

"Pull the rug." Tracey cottoned on fast as well, smirking at him. His grin was all the encouragement the girls needed to burst out into giggles.

George finally burst out, "How in the seven hells does someone so young know how to do stuff like that?"

He shrugged, "It's not that hard. Bullies aren't complicated." He said. What went unsaid was that they all burn the same. He threw his arms over his head, making out like he was stretching. In reality, he was both stretching and casting a silencing ward around him and the girls, "So, when are we going to go explore the 3rd floor corridor?"

Hermione choked on her peas, "What?" She asked hoarsely, "Harry, it's forbidden!"

Harry snickered, "Hey, you chose Gryffindor! That means I am duty-bound to bring you on adventures. It's for your own good."

Tracey laughed, "Oh, I'm so game!" She rubbed her hands together, studiously ignoring Hermione's betrayed gaze.

"Daphne!" She turned to the currently-black-haired girl, "Help me talk some sense into them!"

The girl smirked, "Sorry Hermione. You heard the big man. It's for your own good."

Hermione's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. She crossed her arms and pouted cutely, "I am lodging a formal protest. I don't want to get expelled!"

Tracey cackled, "Notice how she's more worried about that then the whole death thing." Hermione flushed beet red.

-]|[-

"We're going to be expelled!" Hermione moaned piteously, "Why did I let you talk me into this?"

"Because you secretly love it." Harry chortled from his leading point, much to her indignation.

"I most certainly do not!" She whispered, before jumping at a shadow.

"Yes, you do." Daphne smirked, "Why else wouldn't you have just locked yourself in your new room?" It turned out that either Lavender Brown snored as loudly as Ron Weasley did, or Hermione's silencing spells weren't that good. Or at least that was her excuse for the room she had right beside Harry.

Tracey giggled and wrapped her arm around Hermione's waist, "Face it Hermione, you're secretly as much of a bad girl as I am!" Hermione was so red they started to worry if the blood was going anywhere else.

"Shhh." Harry said, "We're here!" They were standing in front of a rather large door. Quite obviously, it was locked.

"Oh, what a shame! Time to go back!" Hermione tried to back up, but both of the laughing girls who were hugging her prevented it. They all turned puppy-dog eyes on her, "Oh fine." She pouted and took out her wand. "Alohamora!" The door opened after the lock clicked and they walked in. The room was pretty dark, but Harry's ears immediately caught on to growling. He immediately put himself in front of the girls and made sure they were as close-together as they could be behind him. "Oww! Harry!" She whispered as they almost banged together.

"Quiet." The girls couldn't see in the pitch black darkness of the room, but Harry's draconic eyes certainly didn't have that problem. They peaked around his shoulder, just in time for three giant sets of eyes to start shining out in front of them. Moments later, light shone in the room.

Harry almost grinned. It was a little bigger than the average dragon, and much smaller than his own form. It had three canine heads, drooling jaws filled with fangs, and angry icy-blue eyes. All three girls squeaked in fear and started tugging on his robes urgently. He didn't budge.

Well, he did, just not in the direction they wanted, "Wow, you're huge aren't you boy!" He walked forward, leaving the terrified trio of girls behind him clutching each other. "What are you doing locked in here?"

The dog barked angrily and lunged forward, its central head opening its jaws wide. Harry's eyes narrowed and he back stepped. The girls cried out his name shrilly in terror as the jaws clamped right where he had been standing moments before. He grunted and stepped forward, fist closed.

WHAM

The dog yelped in both shock and pain as Harry's fist landed square on its nose, jerking its head sideways from the impact. "Bad dog!" He roared, making sure to flash the Cerberus with his draconic aura.

Hermione couldn't help it. Her legs felt like jelly and she sank to the floor. Daphne and Tracey didn't take too long to follow, "He punched it!" It was if her voice was permanently stuck on 'squeak.'

"Bad dog!" Harry repeated, "We're friends, not food." The Cerberus whimpered and whined before Harry started to scratch gently at it, "See, friends. Good boy!" He grinned as the dog relaxed, its other heads lowering. A low growl escaped all three of its throats, "Who's a good boy!" He gushed.

Apparently not all animals hated him. Just the tiny ones. The thought made him smirk. The Cerberus barked happily, its tongue out while it panted and its single tail was wagging.

"He just tamed a Cerberus." Tracey whispered in awe.

"No wonder he's not afraid of Malfoy." Daphne gaped in awe as Harry rolled the gigantic dog onto its back and jumped onto it so he could scratch his chest.

"He punched it so hard its head jerked back." Hermione whispered, still in shock. Her legs felt like they had ants crawling inside of them, but at least that was slightly better than no feeling at all.

"Now boy, my friends are going to come and pet you as well. You won't hurt them, understand?" Just for a moment, Harry allowed his draconic aura through. Just for a moment. The huge canine's eyes shrank to pinpricks at the suddenly threatening tone and it yipped in deference. It was intelligent enough to know not to piss off the tiny human on top of it. He grinned, "Hey girls!" Daphne, Tracey, and Hermione jumped at being called, "Come on! He's a big softy!"

"I'm quite alright over here Harry!" Hermione trembled. Daphne nodded hurriedly in agreement.

Tracey though, was the most outwardly adventurous of them all. It was a miracle she had even been able to get sorted into Slytherin. Still trembling, she stood and wobbled over, much to the other two girl's shock. Slowly, she reached the huge dog watching her curiously, "You won't hurt me, right boy?" She screamed and jumped back when a massive head dipped closer. Her heart was hammering a tattoo onto her breast, but she continued approaching at the – she hoped – welcoming bark. She laughed, in sheer relief, as she began scratching its ear, "You're such a big boy, aren't you." Feeling returned to her legs as her heart rate started declining again, "You're just as much of a softy as Harry said, aren't you boy?"

Emboldened by Tracey's success, Daphne shakily made her way over, and did not flinch back when the dog's head lowered, "Oh, we should have brought him some food." She giggled. She was much less afraid now than she had been. Even if she could have turned herself into electricity to protect herself, she didn't quite fancy being bit in half. She had never been in enough danger to actually try reforming her body.

Tracey laughed gaily, "Oh, this is awesome!" Her rainbow wings burst from her back and she lifted off into the air, landing where Harry had been standing. She started scratching at his chest, and it made him growl lowly, "Come on Hermione!" She waved at the only straggler of the group.

"I'm quite okay over here!" She yelped back, making all three frown.

Harry jumped over to her and extended a hand, "Come on Hermione, this big lug won't hurt you. I promise!" She looked so tiny and scared, "Look, Tracey and Daphne are fine over there, and I walked away! He's a really good dog!" Finally, she reached a hand forward and he pulled her up. Only, her legs didn't quite want to cooperate, and she almost fell over again.

So Harry cut out the middle man and picked her up himself, in a bridal carry, "Harry!" She squeaked, red-faced. He brought her over to the dog and she hesitantly raised a hand, before starting to pet him. She sighed in relief when Harry did not, in fact, have to pull her back to prevent a lost arm like she expected. He put her back down, but made sure to keep steadying her, until she was confident enough to stand on her own. She started to giggle suddenly, "Just think, I ran away from a Chihuahua three months ago."

"What's a Chihuahua?" Daphne asked in puzzlement. That was not a word she had come across before. Dogs had never really caught on with the magical folk, for some reason.

"It's a slightly bigger rat." Harry deadpanned.

"Harry!" Hermione admonished with a chuckle, "It's a dog breed Daphne!"

"That thing is not a dog!" Harry shuddered. Dudley wanted a dog for himself after seeing that fat cow Marge's dogs, and Petunia had gotten him (read: herself) a Chihuahua. It had lasted all of a week before it ran away and never came back. Harry had been quite jealous of it for the longest time. "It can fit in a purse! That's not a dog! It's an accessory!" Daphne and Tracey started to chuckle, imagining a tiny Cerberus in a purse. He grinned suddenly, "Hey, come down girls!" Tracey looked puzzled, but complied. The three girls backed away as Harry found a piece or loose rubble on the ground.

His tongue out to the side of his mouth, he concentrated. The rubble became wooden, and then turned into…well…a massive stick. The Cerberus barked loudly, scrambling to its feet. It was leaning close to the ground with its behind up in the air. The girls grinned, "Fetch!" Harry yelled, his magic picking up the massive log and hurling it over the Cerberus' head. The dog was off like a shot, moving far faster than a creature of that size had any right to. It caught the trunk before it even hit the ground with two of its heads, practically doing a flip, and then trotted proudly back to the quartet. The girls clapped as the Cerberus sat and started wagging its tail with another loud bark.

"Any of you want a go?" Hermione grinned and raised a hand. Sweat almost literally started to pour from her brow as the log wobbled its way up, and then was flung far. Hermione almost dropped in exhaustion. Skilled she may have been, powerful she may have been, but used to exerting that power, she was not.

Daphne spoke suddenly, as she watched the Cerberus trot back, "So, is no one going to talk about the trapdoor?" With an exertion of her own, she tossed the trunk, wiping at her brow.

Tracey sniggered, "Wonder what it's guarding? I heard that Cerberi are incredibly powerful guards."

Harry chuckled, "Must be something big if they have one of these guys guarding it. We can talk about it later, I suppose."

Hermione yawned, "Yeah, we should probably go. It's almost eleven." Lifting the huge log had really knackered her out. They spent a few minutes more playing with the dog, before leaving.

Only Harry didn't go to bed immediately upon saying goodnight to Hermione at her door. Instead, he shrugged off his shirt, going bare-chested. He opened the window leading outside the tower and jumped up onto the ledge. He sighed in pleasure at the cool night air.

The Cerberus had attacked him, even if he had quickly solved that problem. It didn't mean that his blood hadn't sung. He tipped forward, and fell headfirst right off the tower. His eyes began glowing the emerald green they were known for as his arms grew scales and transformed into wings.

He caught the winds, propelling himself back into the air with exhilaration. He picked up massive amounts of speed, far more than any broomstick allowed, and soon the castle was nothing more than a pinprick behind him. Harry let himself go, assuming his full form for the first time in a long time in many months. His howl of triumph shook the night.

-]|[-

"Hey Albus!" Harry greeted happily with a smattering of 'Hello, sirs,' from the ladies. Hermione elbowed him in the side in shock at his address for the headmaster.

"Ah, good morning Harry. Ms. Granger, Ms. Greengrass, Ms. Davis." He smiled kindly at them, "This was quite a request you had. I confess myself to be very curious as to why you needed such a large room." He opened the door, showing them what was, in fact, a cavernous room about as big as the Great Hall.

Harry yelped in glee, a massive grin on his face, and raced into the room.

"Wow, I haven't seen him this excited before." Hermione said to the other two, as well as Albus, "He didn't even answer your question, headmaster. How rude." She frowned.

"Minerva – that is, Professor McGonagall – told me that this was a hobby for him. She did not deign to inform me about what exactly the hobby was." Albus was amused, "Quite the opposite in fact. She seemed like she wanted nothing to do with it."

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble setting up the room, Headmaster Dumbledore." Daphne said carefully. She wasn't really sure what to make of the man. She knew her parents as well as Tracey's parents didn't like him very much, but she had resolved to make her own opinions. Harry seemed to know him quite well.

"Oh heavens no." Albus waved a hand, "It is really a simple spell, once you have mastered it. Learning it is the problem." He chuckled, "There was no difficulty at all. I just haven't had the time until this morning." He led the other three in, and they watched as Harry waved his wand around, transfiguring the walls. He kept some walls vertical, but others he warped, drawing them more towards the center of the room, and creating a slope. Some of them jutted out quite sharply, creating inclines. Some of them he forced into becoming corners. All in all, it was making the room seem much more three-dimensional.

"What is the world is he doing?" Hermione asked aloud.

"Haven't the foggiest." Albus answered absently.

"You'll see soon! By the way professor, can you teach me the cushioning charm? The room will need it on basically the entire floor." Harry called from the middle of the room.

Hermione gulped, "Cushioning Charms? I don't like the sound of that."

Albus spent the next several minutes teaching Harry – and the girls, who wouldn't pass up a chance to learn from one of the greatest minds of the past millennia even if they were paid to – how to first cast impact-based cushioning charms, and then how to anchor them to very basic runic sequences. That way, they could easily just ensure they stayed charged with a quick injection of magic.

When they finished with that, Harry stood still, with his eyes closed for several minutes. He was building up a solid picture of what he wanted in his mind's eye. Finally, he opened his eyes and waved his wand, and the room erupted into color. Hundreds of rocks of all shapes, sizes, and colors started jutting out of the walls.

He clapped his hands in glee, "Finally finished!"

"Finished with what? What is this?" Tracey finally exploded.

"I would quite like to know myself." Albus had a small smile of bemusement on his face.

Harry grinned, and then ripped off the shirt he had been wearing, before transfiguring his pants into basketball shorts and his school shoes into a really tight pair of shoes that had rubber all over the soles, toes, heel, and sides. Daphne, Tracey, and Hermione all erupted into massive blushes. Harry wasn't quite ripped, but he was pretty damn muscular, especially for an eleven year old. He grinned at his blushing friends – one of which was even hiding her face behind her (wide open) fingers, "You didn't think I was naturally just really strong did you? No, this is what I do to keep myself in shape." Well, he was naturally strong, but this did help quite a bit into making that strength show. He clapped his hands, and where they had once been clean, they were now white with some form of powder.

He turned and walked over to one of the walls he had created. It started out with a steep slope facing inward, before leveling out. It then had a ceiling right above it, before sloping up and leveling out once more. Harry grabbed the single white rock. It was a pretty tiny, crappy hold, but he had dealt with worse back in his home. He put one foot on a lower, even tinier boulder, and then he was off the ground, one leg dangling. He climbed directly up to the next set of crappy holds, before anchoring himself. He swung right, then left, and then swung and leapt right with a roar of exertion. He caught the holds on the now vertical wall, feet dangling, before securing himself back on the lower, inclined wall.

His audience watched in awe, "Oh my word." Daphne whimpered.

"Look at those muscles." Tracey was even drooling a bit. Hermione only watched with wide eyes.

"Fascinating." Albus was rubbing his chin, "Harry, are you using any magic at all?"

"Nope! All muscle and balance!" He called from the wall. He was now entirely on the vertical portion of the wall, but the next hold of the same color as the ones he had been using was almost six feet higher up. Harry tested himself, making sure he was well anchored, before doing a series of little hops. He wanted to make sure his footing was sure. Finally, with a grunt, he practically threw himself up the wall, gripping the much higher holds with a growl of pain. He hung from one hand, roaring in exertion, before pulling himself up with one arm and gripping the other hand hold.

His audience gasped appropriately. Hermione was moaning in sheer terror, "This is crazy! Oh, and he's going to have us doing this with him. I know it!"

Tracey made her way to one of the purely vertical walls, examining the holds. "Huh, these big ones don't seem too bad."

"They aren't!" Harry called from much higher, "They become difficult when they're large, smooth and give you no actual grip. You need to use the whole hand and squeeze basically." He was hanging from the ceiling portion of his problem, switching arms periodically to relax. "Then there are the really tiny ones. Those are much bigger challenges." He continued climbing, reaching the top, and then yelling, "Time to test the cushions!" He dropped from the wall like a stone, falling on his feet and bending his knees. He grinned, slightly sweaty from his exertions, "I missed this!" He said happily.

He eyed the three girls with a predatory smile, and Hermione started inwardly crying. With a click of his fingers, they were in tank-tops, muggle yoga pants, and wearing the climbing shoes they needed. They all jumped in shock, "Ahh! These shoes are so tight!"

"They're supposed to be. It helps you put your weight on your toes to help climb." Harry said, "If you girls want to get started, the yellow and the red ones are the easiest. Give it a go!" He said encouragingly. Then he stopped, "Oh, I suppose I should tell you the rules. A problem starts at the areas marked with tape. You need to be starting on them, either both hands on one stone or split between two, and your feet need to be on the wall. Then, you can only use the color of the problem you started with to climb."

"How come you do this?" Daphne asked curiously.

"For one, I love it. It's really fun and gets your adrenaline pumping. For another, you get in shape." He flexed, and grinned wider when her blush sprang up again.

"HOW THE HELL!" Tracey screamed from the wall. She had decided to try grabbing one of the tiny white holds. She marched over and started poking him in the chest, "How the bloody hell do you hold those small ones. There's no way!"

He grinned and walked over, "Like this." He placed his fingertips on the rock, cupping it with his palm, with his thumb over his pointer-finger.

Tracey's jaw dropped, "But…but…"

He laughed, "Don't worry about these yet Tracey. It takes a whole hell of a lot of practice and strength to be able to do these. We actually have a massive advantage, since potions and magic can heal tendon injuries easily." He stretched, "I suggest you girls go for a jog and do some stretching and warming up before you start climbing. Also, I have to teach you the chalk spell I used. You need chalk when climbing."

Daphne groaned, "You worded it as a challenge on purpose. You knew we wouldn't back out if you did."

Harry cackled. Then Albus' voice reminded them of the fifth person in the room. Albus Dumbledore, resplendent in his magenta robes with purple stars, called down from the wall, "You're quite right Harry! This is fun!" Everyone's eyes bugged out in shock as they eyed the old man up high on the rocks. He let go and gently floated back to the ground, impacting softly.

Harry sputtered, before starting to laugh, "I guess age is just a number, huh sir?"

"Yes, you young whippersnapper, it is." The old man laughed, "Especially for us wizards and witches. We remain in shape long after we become visibly wrinkly." He rubbed his beard, inadvertently getting chalk on it, "My own OWL examiner – a certain Griselda Marchbanks – was already nearing my own age when she tested me, and she's still testing now."

Tracey stared, before grabbing Hermione and Daphne and beginning to jog. Like hell she was going to allow them to be shown up by an old man and a far-too-smug brat. Said brat would only laugh when they later claimed they wished they didn't know him. It probably would have had a better delivery if they hadn't been leaning on him when they said it.

-]|[-

It came almost as a shock to the quartet when they had walked into the Great Hall one morning and realized there were Halloween decorations everywhere. Time had really gone by quickly, and they were so busy they never realized it. With their bi-nightly trips to play with the Cerberus, and their classes, and the exercise they were all getting every day (wasn't magic amazing?) in Harry's bouldering gym, they truly hadn't noticed that it was already October.

Classes had been…slow. Hermione's intense success had initially made them think that they would be breezing through material in class and perhaps even moving on to more advanced material a little early. Really, really not the case. Clear lines had been drawn in classes between the students. It was that thing no one wanted to talk about, but it was the elephant in the room nonetheless.

There were wildly varying skill levels between the students. Many of the purebloods and Halfbloods quite simply picked up the magic quicker and – the Slytherins especially – took that as proof of their breeding. On the opposite end of the spectrum, most Muggleborns struggled harshly. They didn't know magic like the other students did. They still had no real feel for it, and it was truly frustrating for everyone involved. But that wasn't always the case. First, there was Hermione herself, and there were a few others who had much lesser successes, but successes all the same. Then there was the opposite end of the spectrum.

Ron Weasley – for example – also struggled in classes. They learned that his mother – an overbearing woman if the Twins had anything to say about it – had not let him use his wand once despite the fact that his birthday was March the first. He had six months of time that he could have spent learning small spells in a safe environment twiddling his thumbs, because his mother was a stickler for the letter of the laws.

Hermione had almost exploded when she learned that. She – who had been so happy and eager to show off for her parents and earn some affection from them – wasn't allowed a wand until the late summer. She was told on her birthday – due to some accidental magic triggered by bullying on the day. Children were right nasty little buggers weren't they – and then had to wait almost a full year to start using actual magic. Learning that people who lived in magical homes could use it any time they wanted as long as it was under 'supervision' was a slap in the face. Learning that a boy's mother had purposely held him back just to follow the letter of the law was even more infuriating, and a part of Hermione's awe of adults died that day.

Neville was in a different, but same boat as Ron. He was so shy and unconfident that his spells just really wouldn't work for him. He was almost as jumpy as Quirrel, and that was saying something.

So it was really no wonder that half of their year – the quartet specially – was bored almost to tears in classes, while the other half was crying for entirely different reasons. They were told that the more they practiced, the easier the practical portions of the classes would. Consequently that meant the pace would also ramp up tremendously in later years, when there wasn't such a gap between the students.

What this meant in practicality, was that they were only now – at Halloween learning how cast the Levitation Spell in classes, which itself was only a more advanced version of the Hover charm. If they (a very broad they, since they by no means had a monopoly on skill) hadn't been allowed to read ahead and practice on their own in classes (after displaying skill with the spells, of course), they were quite sure they would have mutinied already.

"Wingardium Leviosar!" Ron Weasley bellowed, practically smacking the feather with his poor, beat-up wand. He clearly was at his wit's end at this point.

Hermione sighed in more than a little frustration. Try as she might, the boy just was not getting the spell, "It's Le-vi-o-sa, not Le-vi-o-sar." She really should have been doing other things with her friends by now, but she just felt bad for the boy.

"Well you do it then, if you're so bloody smart!" Ron snarled at her, almost spitting.

She stared at him dully, "Really?" She deadpanned. She sighed and shook her head, "You're own your own. I tried."

She got up to start walking away, but she heard him say, "Friendless, know-it-all bookworm. Bloody nightmare." Through ground teeth.

She closed her eyes and counted to three, "Friendless? Maybe you should look at yourself, Weasley. I have the best friends I could ask for." She turned and glared at him, "And yeah, I'm a know-it-all and proud of it!" She turned and walked away, not wanting to deal with him anymore.

She sat with her friends with a smile. Harry chuckled, "I don't suppose you want me to turn him into a toad?"

She snorted in response, "We both know you're not quite there yet."

Tracey laughed as Harry glowered, "Oh please, he's got so much toad in him Harry wouldn't even have much to do."

-]|[-

The Great Hall was truly magnificent for the Halloween feast. There were giant, floating pumpkins everywhere in the hall, carved to perfection with scary faces and lit up by flames of all different colors. Live bats swarmed around them like little black clouds, kept from coming within a few feet of the tables by redirecting wards. Everyone – well, almost everyone. Ron was still sulking from Charms – was having a marvelous time. Harry in particular was in heaven with all the meat he could help himself to.

And then the other shoe dropped. "TROLL!" The large doors slammed open as Quirrel ran in, screaming his head off. There was dead silence as they started processing the words, "TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!" He practically slammed into the Professor's table. He gasped, panting, "Thought you ought to know…" No one noticed the complete lack of a stutter.

And then there were screams. Practically the entire school began to panic, screaming in helpless terror, "SILENCE!" Dumbledore thundered, standing to his feet, looking grim. "Thank you." He said as the entire hall quieted and looked to him for direction, "As the Slytherins have their dorms in the dungeons, and as we do not know if this troll has moved from its previous location, you all shall stay here." He said firmly, "All younger students are to get up and move closer to the head table. The older students shall keep a watchful eye on all of you." Several of the older students were looking a little green. Knowing the spells were one thing. A live-fire exercise was another.

He then addressed the ghosts, "As they are incapable of harming your ethereal bodies, all ghosts shall be responsible for trying to distract the beast while the older students attempt to overwhelm it with spells, should it somehow find its way here. A troll's hide is not impenetrable, and I assure you, our sixth and seventh years will be able to take one down. Please, do not panic."

Dumbledore sent Harry a very meaningful look, and Harry heard his voice inside his head, 'This is not worth blowing your secret Harry. Please do not transform if it gets in.' Harry gave a small nod, not having intended to in the first place. By that time, Dumbledore and the other teachers had reached the entrance to the hall. "No one is allowed to leave the Hall. I shall be sealing these doors behind me. We shall be back as soon as we have ensured the school is clear of danger." The doors shut behind them and glowed blue momentarily, before a squelching sound rang through the hall.

"How could a troll get in?" Hermione asked with a frown, "Aren't they supposed to be really dim?"

"That's an understatement." Tracey said darkly.

Daphne agreed, "Our lowest failing grade is 'Troll.'" She hissed, "I really, really doubt one could just bloody wander in."

They overheard Ron Weasley – through food of course – say, "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke?"

Nearly-headless Nick scoffed, "Peeves is a poltergeist, not the ghost of a serial killer. He knows full well that a prank like this would have him removed."

But whatever reply would have been forthcoming was cut off by a thunderous crash.

BANG!

Several students screamed as the sealed doors to the Hall got slammed by something huge. The doors bulged outward momentarily. Harry immediately made sure he was facing the door, ready for anything that came through it.

BANG!

Another thunderous crash rang out, along with a horrifying crack as the wood broke. The doors were very much deformed now, and half the hall had burst into terrified tears. The door was barely holding, and it was quite clear that one more solid hit would be enough.

CRASH!

Broken bits of door and even parts of the stone they had been attached to flew across the room. Several students cast shielding spells, killing the momentum of the biggest pieces. Several of the smaller ones however, peppered the students. A massive beast had crashed through the door, landing on its front due to the wood giving way. That wasn't what terrified the students in the hall.

No, that honor went to the four other trolls rushing in, nearly demonic-sounding howls splitting the air. They were huge, bulky, dark gray creatures drabbed in battered metal armor. Each and every one of them held massive tree trunks that they had beaten into clubs. These weren't mountain trolls.

They were cave trolls.

One rushed for the Gryffindor table where Percy Weasley was sitting like a deer in headlights. It raised its club over its head, roaring all the while, before swinging it sideways. "PROTEGO!" Percy yelled out in sheer, bloody panic. A bright, almost solid projection of magic appeared in front of him right before the club hit him. A shockwave knocked several students back as several things happened. The shield shattered like glass, but had done its rushed, panicked work. The club was flung backward and almost wrenched the trolls arm out of its socket. The troll almost spun as it tried to keep a hold of the club, and therefore it skidded on the floor, roaring as the dull sensation of pain coursed through it for the first time in a very long time. The unlucky Weasley who had cast the shield didn't fare much better. There were shields that dimmed physical impacts, and Protego was not one of them. Luckily, he had poured so much magic into it that it had negated most of the impact, but that was still enough to send him skidding ass over teakettle backwards onto the Gryffindor table. He was out cold before the second tumble.

One of the others had rushed for the Ravenclaw table, and it was hungry. It grabbed at a poor girl who had been too slow in reacting to the situation from the sheer horror. She flung herself backwards in an attempt to escape, but the troll caught on to her. She howled in horror as its hand closed around her and bulled her into the air. She kicked helplessly and screamed as it raised her to its mouth.

And then a set of feet hit the massive beast square in the jaw. Normally, it would have had a laughable result. A human do more than slightly tickle a troll with a physical attack? Laughable at best and brain dead at worst.

Most humans couldn't punch out a Cerberus. Harry had rushed forward the moment the trolls had broken in. He ran so fast he was almost a blur. He had jumped and let his momentum carry him, barreling straight into his enemy like a truck into a divider. He spring-boarded off of the trolls face and caught the girl as its grip loosened, its hand going straight to its aching jaw as it was knocked backwards, stumbling. "GET AWAY FROM THEM." He roared out at the rest of the slower students, forcing them to scramble back as he hit the floor and jumped back nearly ten feet with the unknown girl in his arms. He set her down as gently as he could in his rush, before springing forward to rush the troll once more.

The rest of the hall finally snapped into motion. The younger students – most forth years and below – had rushed behind the head table in terror. That got them out of the way. The ghosts rushed forward, engulfing the beasts and flying through them as distractions. Unfortunately, not every ghost was in the hall. There were only enough to be effective on three of the trolls. One simply fled the hall in a moment of brilliance, going out to search for the headmaster. The oldest students rapidly tossed the house tables up and out of the way, making an even larger barrier between the enemies and the younger kids.

And then the spells flew. Cutting spells; laceration curses (what few light ones the ministry allowed them to learn); gouging spells; piercing spells; anything and everything that had even a chance of hurting these monsters flew towards the beasts that idiot Potter wasn't rushing towards. They hardly wanted to kill the little moron themselves, after all.

Nothing worked. The armor the beasts were wearing protected their vital spots, so what few spells actually managed to penetrate their hides left only superficial damage. More of an annoyance than anything to them.

So more than a few of them faltered in utter disbelief as Harry's fists ignited in flames and he landed an absolutely crushing blow to the troll. Its howl of agony was like music to their ears. As it crashed to the floor and rolled, the club went flying and smashed straight through one of the pumpkins. Howling in anger, Harry slammed his flaming fists in front of him, forming a massive pyre in his hands. He thrust them forward, and the concentrated blast of hellfire engulfed the downed beast. Its high-pitched screech of pain lasted for only a few seconds before dying out under the roar of the fire. Harry cut off the flames, revealing scorched – and even partially melted – rock that was glowing an angry red. The troll was a charred husk, sitting in droopy and almost liquid metal armor.

By that time, the rest of the school had gotten their wits and had managed to take out another of the cave trolls. One brilliant Hufflepuff seventh year with vivid purple hair had turned the stone floor into liquid under the beast, which the troll sank into immediately. It pitched forward, its flailing arms trying to push itself out, but they sank in too.

Trolls were not very intelligent.

She turned the liquid stone back into solid rock, leaving the beast trapped. Another student knocked off its helmet, and at least a dozen of them took aim and started slamming curse after curse into it. Even a troll's hide couldn't take that kind of onslaught. Several students were traumatized when a sickening squelch rang through the hall as its skull collapsed.

Two down, three to go. But they couldn't even take a breather to let out a cheer at the fact that they were winning. The troll that had knocked down the doors had finally managed to scramble to its feet after having been trampled by its fellows, and it was right next to Harry. Its howl of fury rang through the Hall and its actions almost sapped the defenders of their spirit. Harry had his back turned to it as its club screamed through the air, having just finished incinerating his first troll. He swung around, eyes wide as the club approached. He did the only thing he could. He raised his arms to block the hit, transforming his (hidden) skin, his bones, and his flesh into their much more powerful draconic counterparts. Harry was immensely thankful for partial transformations, because even having strengthened himself, the impact hurt like a bitch.

"NOOOO!" Tracey, Hermione, and Daphne screamed in abject horror from the back of the room as Harry flew halfway across the Hall, before crashing into the table barricade, throwing up would chips and splinters.

They never even saw if he moved again, because all three of them saw red. Tracey howled in fury as her rainbow wings burst from her back and she literally began to glow. She raced into the air like a vengeful Valkyrie, rainbow bursts appearing in her hands. With a screech of rage, the hurled the ball in her right hand straight at the beast who was howling in victory. With a sound almost like a twang mixed with shattering glass, the ball hit the troll's nose and exploded like a bomb. The shockwave turned exultation in agony and nearly blew the troll off its feet. The second hit the beast's chestplate and dented it, this time finishing the job of the first in knocking it to the ground. It groaned hoarsely, struggling to draw air into its lungs and scrabbling to rip off its armor.

Daphne didn't let it. She had vaulted over the tables on Tracey's heels and had finally gotten close enough. Her fury was a palpable thing as a veritable storm of electricity made up her body. Her inarticulate scream of anguish was drowned out by the screaming of the lightning that exploded from her. It raced towards the troll, attracted by the metal it was wearing. The troll thrashed in agony as Daphne pumped millions of volts into it. The metal started growing red hot as it sizzled against its hide, sending up an acrid smell into the room. The troll finally died when its heart literally exploded inside its chest. Daphne collapsed to her knees as the troll stopped thrashing, utterly spent. The beast was charred and smoking before her. She struggled to keep from collapsing in a dead faint in her exhaustion.

The third troll was dead, but that was where the good news ended. Her light show had attracted the attention of the fifth troll, which had thus far been entirely focused on the swarming house ghosts and had been out of play. The last was being beat back by the combined might of the rest of the students. The troll started ignoring the ghosts and lumbered straight towards Daphne, attracted by the shiny. "Daphne no!" Tracey screamed as the beast approached, flying down and grabbing the woozy girl in her arms. She tried to fly up and out of the troll's range, but the last dregs of her magic were gone. They both crashed to the floor as her wings winked out of existence, Daphne out cold. Tracey stared in terror at the approaching monster, its club raised high to squash them both. She closed her eyes and curled up, cradling her oldest friend with tears in her eyes.

"NOOO!" Hermione had been the slowest to react. She had panicked. She really had. She had no inborn abilities like Daphne and Tracey, and she had never been in such a dangerous situation like this. She had watched as much older students tried in vain to pierce the monster's hides. Her fury at Harry's hit and her terror has warred, up until she saw what she thought were her last two friends – the only ones who understood her and cared for her – about to die.

Magic screamed out of Hermione's hands, grabbing the troll's club and ripping it straight out of its hand. The troll swung its arm, and almost broke its finger against the stone, which itself did break. It stared stupidly at first its empty hand, and then at the club floating in the air.

It wasn't staring for long. "YOU WON'T HURT THEM!" Hermione screeched before slamming the giant club straight into the trolls face. It howled as it fell to its knees, batting at the errant weapon. Hermione raised it and hit it again, knocking it onto its back, "GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY!" She first screamed and then sobbed as the club flew up and down, again and again. By the time she collapsed to her knees in tears, there was only viscous, green blood on the floor above the troll's stomach. Everything above had been turned into paste. The club slammed into the stone floor and didn't move again.

There was only one troll left, but the scene Hermione had left had shocked the students and the ghosts into inaction. Several were green and barely holding in their dinners. They all jumped when the last troll roared and started charging.

It didn't get very far.

With an almighty crack, the only one Lord Voldemort ever feared appeared in the middle of the Great Hall, in between his students and the troll. His face was like stone, and his eyes were positively glacial. His aura was oppressive, almost crushing the troll while wrapping around the students like a protective blanket. He raised his wand without a word and waved it. Once.

The troll didn't slow down. It didn't even get to register the sudden fear it felt. One moment it was a living, breathing creature, and the next it was a solid statue of ice. Its expression remained unchanged, its maw open in a howl of rage, transitioning into that alien emotion of fear. Its momentum carried over and the statue tipped, falling to the floor and shattering like glass. Its head rolled to a stop at Dumbledore's feet. Only the sounds of Hermione's heartfelt sobs rang through the hall.

-]|[-

And how's THAT for an ending?

Fucking hell guys, this sat at around 2k words for MONTHS on my hard drive while I was first busy with other fandoms and then in such a slump that I didn't get any writing done for months. And then in around two-three weeks, 2k turned into 27k+. This chapter was, in a word, a monster. I had wanted to be done with Halloween by the end of it, which I honestly hadn't thought would take up THIS much.

Now for some things I want to address:

Why did Harry not use his transfiguration skills in the battle? They were one of his strongest suits! Quite simply, SOMETHING was due for a burning. Or an incineration. Or an immolation. If you would like to sing the Fire song, go ahead. I'll just be singing I See Fire.

If anyone cares, the meats Harry was eating in the hall during the opening feast were Brazilian Costela (Beef Ribs) as well as Picanha (Coulotte). If you've never had them and you like meat, holy fuck you're missing out. I'm drooling just thinking about it, and I'm not even a dragon! (Unfortunately. That would be quite fun.)

Daphne's hair dye. It's quite simple; why the bloody hell didn't we have more Nymphadoras in canon? I understand Metamorphmagi being rare, but am I really expected to believe that there isn't a really easy hair dyeing spell? People paint their hair all the time!

The Rock Climbing/Bouldering; why is it here and will it matter in the story? Well, not really. You can consider that author flavor I guess. Plenty of authors have their characters go for a run or a swim in their stories. This was just my own take on that, since I recently got into it myself and bloody well loved it. It also made sense story wise, because – filled with gold and jewels or not – Harry lived in a cave. Perfect for rock climbing in other words. Still, I can't completely rule out it playing some sort of role. Probably not, but anything can happen.

As for the troll(s)? All I can say is…boy that escalated quickly.

I don't think I've ever read a story that did what I just did with the trolls. It also showcased a rise in competency for Quirrel. I'll go into that later on in first year though. I hope you guys liked it! Also, the trolls themselves were Tolkien Trolls. I'd be more inclined to laugh at HP trolls, to be honest. Though I suppose that was a PG movie from 2001. (And werewolves. Holy shit, the HP werewolves look like wimps.)

Also, can I say how utterly ridiculous it is that they were only just starting to actually cast Wingardium Leviosa at Halloween? It's one of the simplest (and most useful) spells in the series, and it took them two whole months just to build up to it! What the hell were they even doing in classes up till then? The pacing for canon is kind of weird…

On the subject of Ron: I'll admit, I don't personally like the character. That doesn't mean I'm going to demonize/bash him. If I remember correctly, the snoring thing was canon. If not for the books, then for the movies. I just…exaggerated a bit for both my amusement and for the reasons stated. Honestly, I think I kept him fairly in character, and if I feel he's going to be in a situation where he's going to be bashed, I'll probably either find another way to do the scene or edit the scene out altogether.

Another thing that I almost always see is that – should Harry be in Gryffindor and not friends with Ron – Neville always becomes his friend. Yeah no. Neville is way too soft to be included in this group. His spinelessness would just get on Harry's nerves. Yeah, he eventually grew out of it, in canon, but that doesn't mean it has happened here.

You'll also note that a rather important canon scene was not included in this, and some things happened later than they were supposed to. Oh, butterflies.

-]|[-

PLEASE READ

I would greatly appreciate it if you guys could help me with spell creation. If you guys have a spell you want to submit, tell me:

The language it is cast in (aka, the spell name in its translated form as well as what it means in English. Also, PLEASE do not just send me google translations. If that was what I wanted I could do it myself. It is bad enough I had to do it with the one Latin spell I used. Damn me for forgetting all four years of high school Latin. Okay, maybe not ALL of it, but certainly not as much as I would like.),

What year they learn it in (aka, I need more spells to fill out the years. For a book about wizards and witches going to school, there isn't very much time actually spent in classes.),

The difficulty,

And obviously, the effect. Color, type, what it does to the target, etc.

If I like the spell enough, it'll make it into the story!

-]|[-

Now, to reiterate some things: Harry is NOT the only special snowflake. Hell, even his friends aren't the only special snowflakes. If you haven't figured that out by now… Well, I'm not sure what else I can do. I had Draco Bloody Malfoy using wandless magic. And I'm going to have a lot of fun thinking up of more.

The next chapter will (hopefully) be shorter and will (hopefully) finish out the year. There isn't actually too much more to go on in the first book. Quidditch is a nonfactor that won't really be mentioned much, if at all, so all that leaves is the Mirror, Christmas, Norbert, and the Stone.

-]|[-

Finished: 3/12/16

Updated:

Final word count (Discounting Author's notes): 26200

Page count: 55