Chapter 4 - Surprising Harry Potter
The great doors opened at once, a tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes stood there who Harry and his friends all recognised.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid said.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big, you could have fit the whole of the school gym in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble stair case facing them led to the upper floors.
As they followed the Professor across the flagged stone floor, Harry could pick out the voices of hundreds of people through a doorway to the right but she directed them into a smaller, empty chamber off to the side. They crowded together to draw some mutual comfort as their nerves mounted.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," introduced Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.
"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Goyle's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on a red-headed boy's smudged nose. Harry waited placidly, an island of calm that Hermione was clinging to. Coupled with his tall, lean body it made him stand out amongst his peers.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor Mc Gonagall instructed. "Please wait quietly."
She left the chamber. Neville loudly swallowed.
"How exactly do they sort us into Houses?" Harry overheard someone ask the red-headed boy.
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
No one was talking much except Hermione, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Harry squeezed her hand. He kept his body still trying to portray a confidence he didn't quite feel. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his future. Then something happened that made that redhead jump about a foot in the air — several people behind him screamed.
"What the — ?" The boy gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing.
What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he de serves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered.
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old House, you know."
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me." Feeling the rush of adrenaline as his body prepared for combat, Harry clamped down ruthlessly on the reaction, getting into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Hermione behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
Harry looked around the place curiously. For such an old building it was certainly impressive, and he wondered how much it had been renovated since its construction. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. Harry idly wondered how they dealt with drips of wax. The tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting.
Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candle light and Harry's back itched between his shoulder blades at being so exposed. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. After noting and dismissing the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.
Harry watched as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. His parents would have picked it apart and remade it from scratch.
'Maybe we have to try and get a rabbit out of it?' Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of crazy thing wizards would enjoy. He noticed that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat expectantly. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing badly. Harry's surprise lasted less than a second, as strangely enough he'd encountered weirder events than this. He listened to the lyrics and noted that it seemed their information was right about what traits were sought for each House, and he felt he would probably qualify for any of them. He also reaffirmed his earlier decision as to which House he preferred. Better to be surrounded by patient and loyal friends. Just get the mission done and get home.
He noted the song had finished and some of the others were whispering about having to wrestle a troll or some such insanity. He did wonder with a part of his mind just how much trouble it would cause if he destroyed the hat, as other students were called up, put the hat on and were sorted. Since his name started with a P, he would be waiting a while. He saw with pleasure that both Justin and Hermione were both made Hufflepuffs, and hid his surprise when Neville got Gryffindor, he'd have picked the boy for another 'Puff as he didn't think him braver than he was patient. That arrogant blond got Sorted straight into Slytherin, causing him to smirk and Harry thought he caught some displeasure from a cute redhead also in green and silver trim that had been sorted into Slytherin just minutes ago. What was her name? Ah that's it, Greengrass. He should pay more attention, really.
Patil, Padma was quietly sorted into Ravenclaw and Harry figured he would be up very soon. Two more girls were next, both new Gryffindors, then "Potter, Harry!" He walked up lightly to the stool, sat down and waited, doing his best to ignore the whispers from all the tables and people gawking like they were at a bloody zoo, including a couple at the Staff Table. The hat was dropped over his head and still he waited, keeping his anger in check as best he could. Without conscious thought, he thought of and discarded plan after plan to destroy ratty old thing.
"Hmm, inventive certainly." Harry heard a small voice say. "Most impressive in someone so young to have so many new and unusual ways to destroy me. Now, while your mind is guarded and well, I can still read the surface thoughts, which is how I saw your creative plans. I am happy to report that most of the methods you had in mind are prevented by other magics. And before you start trying to plot my demise in a way that will bypass any protections, I want to assure you that no one, not a single person nor a group, may be privy to the Sorting. Sorting is what I was made to do, and Sorting is all I can do, and none of the Founders would have approved of the secrets I may see becoming public. After all, they had to test me when I was first made, and as accomplished wizards and witches naturally they had their own secrets that they wouldn't reveal to any stranger that came along after their deaths. Now, can you lower your defences long enough to allow me to carry out my one purpose?"
"And what guarantee do I have that you are telling the truth? I have never seen you before nor apparently are there any other Hats that do the same job so I can't even compare you to something else in my experience."
"A good question. Unfortunately, there is no guarantee I can give you at this time that you would accept, is there? Whatever I promise, you don't have reason to trust me. All I can offer is that you may talk to any wizard or witch, and none will be able to tell you of the details of someone else's Sorting that they heard from me. That would allow you to check my word later, even if it does not help us at this moment. You could always come back and try to destroy me if you find I lied," the Hat offered.
"Correction, I will come back and destroy the Sorting Hat, sentient historical artefact or no, if you have lied to me. Very well, I would rather get this over and done anyway." Harry slowly lowered his Yamanaka-style defences and waited, wondering if he would feel this intrusion. A second later he got his answer, a mild headache spreading from the centre of his brain. The headache started to ease again almost immediately and he heard the voice in his ear.
"Difficult, most difficult, and I do apologize for that mild discomfort, you hadn't cleared all of your defences yet and I tripped a minor trap. If I was anybody else, I'm sure I would have a splitting migraine." This time the voice wasn't in his ears.
Harry thought back at it, "Let me make it easier for you, then. If you put me in Slytherin then neither you nor that House will survive. I have read the histories available and there are too many children of terrorists in that House. Before long I would be forced to kill in self-defence and the blood would flow from there. I wouldn't be surprised if I was eventually one of only 3 magical humans left in Britain as the bloodshed spread and idiots attacked me, my friends or my family. The destruction of wizardry and witchcraft would be directly traced to your decision right here to place me in the House of the Snakes. If you put me in Gryffindor, I'll have to put up with reckless fools who don't think ahead of time. While Ravenclaw would be better than the House of the Lions - at least I would get decent conversation and some peace and quiet - I would still be apart from my friends. I don't want to leave them alone, especially Hermione Granger. You must have noticed she needs her friends close to her. Sort me into Hufflepuff, and it will be better for your school, better for me, and best for my friends."
"You were right before, you would be welcomed by any of the Founders. Indeed, you're braver than Godric with what you faced, you have argued your case as well as Rowena, your new parents have developed your cunning to a level that would worry Salazar, but with Merlin as my witness, your seventy hour workdays will knock them dead when you join your friends in HUFFLEPUFF!" Harry realised that the last word was shouted out to the Great Hall and took off the Hat to a few moments of silence before clapping and cheering broke out at his new House, he set the Sorting Hat back on the stool and walked over, taking a seat between Hermione and Justin, smiling broadly at them. Most of Harry's smile was for joining his friends at the House he wanted, but part of it was for pulling a successful prank on the Wizarding World's expectations.
The rest of the Sorting went by normally, and the crowd of students were getting restless as Professor McGonagall took the Sorting Hat away. Once she returned, the old man got up from his throne-like golden chair, beaming at his students, arms open wide as if nothing could have pleased him more.
"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 amid clapping and cheering from many of the students.
"Well!" Hermione began, "That was certainly unusual."
"At least he's the first politician I've heard say something truthful." Harry put in. "A few words, indeed." He grinned. Sure he still didn't like the old man, his repeated attempts to steal away Harry's family ensured that, but he wasn't blind to when the man did something good or impressive.
"Why did you call him a politician?" Justin asked.
"Well, in addition to being Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, he also has two other jobs. He's something called the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, which seems to be a bit like our UN, and he is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, something of a mix of Parliament and the courts. That's two important political jobs he holds in addition to being the Headmaster of the only school of magic in Great Britain. Plus there's the speech he just made. It's great for winning people over, just like politicians want, right?" Harry explained, correctly he thought.
Justin changed the subject. "Hey look, the food's arrived!"
And so it had. In an instant all the empty platters were now filled, piled high with food. The jugs were filled with a few different drinks but almost all of them were something that looked similar to orange juice. One taste was enough to make Harry convinced there was something wrong with the taste-buds of the Wizarding World. "What IS that awful stuff?!" He exclaimed, unable to restrain himself.
A blonde boy two seats down showed his surprise at both Harry's dislike of the drink as well as his ignorance. "That's pumpkin juice, of course. Haven't you had it before? Oh, sorry, I'm Ernest Macmillan, call me Ernie."
Harry offered his hand, "Hi, I'm Harry Potter. And no, I hadn't met a wizard since I was a baby until I met Justin here outside the Leaky Cauldron a month ago. He, Hermione and I met there with Professor McGonagall to get our stuff for school. And I only met the Professor a couple of days before that when she came to prove magic was real like she does for the other Muggleborns."
"But Harry, you're not Muggleborn! Both your parents were magical!" Ernie replied.
"I might as well be, though. After all, it's not like there's any difference apart from environment, I read."
"We call that Muggle-raised, but I guess I see what you mean. It's just a bit of a surprise, to think you didn't even know about magic. I mean, you're the Boy-Who-Lived! You're famous!" He stopped hastily, sensing Harry's change in mood.
"Yes, I'm famous because my parents were murdered by some nut-case that has everyone scared even after he's dead." He growled.
"Sorry, Harry!" Ernie apologised hastily, putting in every ounce of sincerity he could.
Harry nodded and took a breath to calm his nerves. "No, I'm sorry, Ernie, I shouldn't have said that either." He looked around, gaining some time and changed the subject. "So, is there something other than pumpkin juice to drink? I guess if you're raised on it you can get used to it, after all, but tonight I'd rather have something I like."
"Yeah, there's a jug of water down here, one sec." Ernie passed it along to a grateful Harry. Though Harry didn't know about it, and likely wouldn't have cared if he did, the gossip that THE Harry Potter hated pumpkin juice was around the school faster than he would've believed. For now, though, Harry and his friends were more intent on chatting to their new Housemates and eating dinner. Justin's grimace at the cooking was almost matched by Harry's before he clamped down, again, on his reaction. While he was sure Justin and Hermione would understand, he didn't intend to cause more waves on his very first night. Instead, he limited himself to a brief "Boarding school food, right?" for Justin's ears and ate slowly, apparently distracted by chatting with his fellow 'Puffs. Having enjoyed food cooked by the Kitsunes, and even learned some of their culinary skills from his dad and Ayame-mum, as well as eating with his friends over the years, Hogwarts food seemed to match the tradition of British boarding schools.
When everyone was finished eating, Dumbledore again stood and the hall fell silent. "Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered." Harry noted the insult for later consideration. "I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
"First Years should note that the forest on the ground is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of a pair of grinning redheads over at the Gryffindor table. "I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their House should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."
Harry laughed until he noticed that none of the older students were treating it as the joke it ought to be. Great, a mystery to investigate on his very first night in the castle. Well, two if he wanted to find out just why anyone thought 'pumpkin juice' was a good idea. Still, investigations were just what the Shadow Clone were for originally, and he had 6 he could use at Hogwarts or more in an emergency. He made a note to talk to the others later, for now though, Dumbledore was speaking again.
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" The other teachers' smiles almost disappeared here or became strained.
Harry could have cried. This was one of the problems with having trained and developed his senses so much. People singing off-key! It quickly got worse, when Dumbledore invited everyone to pick their favourite tune to which to sing the silly words. The fact that he appeared moved by the performance only added to the suffering. Not even the hearing-protection techniques he had would save him.
Dumbledore must be tone-deaf, Harry decided, toying with thoughts of Tayuya-mum and Kin-mum expressing their displeasure to the man over a nice cup of tea and a full set of tools for making their baby boy sit through such a travesty of sound. Harry mouthed the words on automatic while he thought of how his friends at home were doing.
Eventually the torture was over, those grinning idiots in Gryffindor being last to finish up with a funeral march, and they were sent off to bed by a disturbingly emotional Headmaster. The Fifth Year Prefects came over and escorted the ten new Hufflepuffs to the dorms, taking the time to point out various aspects of the castle on the way down into a lower level past the Hogwarts Kitchens ("Suitable for a snack any time, just tickle the pear!" they were told) and from there to a corridor nearby. In a shadowy stone recess they were shown a pile of large barrels.
The Fifth Year boy waited until he got all their attention. "Now while the other Houses have passwords or for the Ravenclaws a riddle to guard their dorms, Hufflepuff set up something different for her House. The barrel two from the bottom, in the middle of this second row, here is special. If you tap it in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff' like this-" he demonstrated for the waiting students, "it opens up into the tunnel that allows us to get inside. After you."
Inside they found a rather cosy and welcoming space. Indeed they somehow felt like the sun was shining on them. They also saw a squat little witch waiting for them with short, grey, wavy hair. She gave them a smile as she looked them over.
"Welcome, my new First Years, to your new House while you are here at Hogwarts. I am your Head of House, Professor Sprout. I will also be teaching you Herbology. If Professor McGonagall gave you her usual speech, then she told you that your House is something like your family while you are at Hogwarts. While the other Houses may differ, in Hufflepuff we aim to support our new family and help each other with any troubles. You have been chosen because you are hardworking and loyal. Here you may find a warm welcome, especially those among you new to the Wizarding World, and we will do what we can to help you find your place as you grow as witches and wizards, as students, and as people."
She nodded to her Prefects. "These two will be available to answer questions if I am busy, or just ask anyone. We are a friendly lot here. For now, though, why don't you all follow a Prefect who will show you to your dorms. Your trunks have been brought in already and are waiting by your beds. Go through, unpack and settle in, and I'll see you again in the morning"
The Prefects split them into boys and girls, and Harry, Justin, Ernie and the two boys Harry didn't know yet followed. Harry was a little relieved, since even here he was getting extra looks though they were generally friendly ones. So far it seemed Harry's guess was right, both about the House and about expectations. A quick introduction to his roommates Roger Malone and Wayne Hopkins and they went to sleep.
The next morning, Harry woke up at 6am as was his habit. He looked at his watch and saw he had about ten minutes until his clones at home were due to dispel themselves. As he pulled back the curtains and started to get ready for the day, he was unsurprised to see the other boys were all still dead to the world. He smiled to himself, thinking they would be grateful he could be so quiet, if they were awake to appreciate his courtesy. Silently he dressed in his running clothes and headed out through the empty Common Room to the castle proper. As he passed through shadows, he created a few Shadow Clones with orders to do a quick scout of the building to give him a map, creating replacements and dispelling themselves every five minutes where possible, until he had a basic layout of the castle clear in his head.
Within ten minutes, his clones had visited every floor. Within twenty, they'd gotten thoroughly lost! The castle was big, to be sure, but the real issue was that the layout wasn't stable. Also, he was getting a weird headache from whichever clones had used any of the staircases that moved. After the backlash from those cleared, he immediately realised that it could be due to the clones being made of chakra and interacting with the magic that moved the staircases.
After he created and dispelled a clone to spread that knowledge over the clones out exploring, they avoided touching any of the moving staircases, and that helped a great deal. There were still odd places, walls that looked like doors, doors that looked part of the walls or hidden behind tapestries, and some of those felt uncomfortable to the clones. To test, however, Harry sought out the nearest moving staircase, riding it comfortably. It was only when he pressed his hand on the steps and actively ran chakra through it that he felt pain. 'Test complete.' he thought. While inconvenient, it was certainly no hindrance that his clones couldn't really walk on the magical stairs. They were as comfortable as he was walking on the walls or ceiling, and he was sure they would soon find a way to act as if they were walking normally if need be.
A full hour after he got up, Harry looked at his watch and headed up to take a shower. It was still early and if he was lucky, he should still get to have a long shower before he was forced to share. Unbidden, an image of a girl sharing the shower went through his mind and he cursed his early hormones. One long soothing shower later, Harry headed down to the Great Hall and sat down to breakfast at twenty minutes to eight. There were a scattering of students already there and more trickled in, most still drowsy as they took their places, eating up. Harry made sure to get a jug of milk for he and his friends to drink when they arrived, taking in a leisurely meal. By ten to, all ten of the Hufflepuffs in his year were seated around him, and he noticed that the pumpkin juice wasn't near any of them.
Professor Sprout had also noticed that they were all present and came over to give them each their timetables. "As you can see, your first class is with me, so around twenty past eight I'll take you over to Greenhouse One where we'll be taking all our Herbology classes this year. Later this morning you have Defence Against the Dark Arts, followed immediately by lunch, and this afternoon is Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, and dinner to follow at six thirty tonight. Your curfew is at nine sharp, which means you are to be in our Common Room or in your dorms by that time. Are there any questions?"
There were none, though everyone did have to go back to get their books, except for Hermione who was carrying all her books with her. Harry went back to the dorms with the rest while Hermione took the chance to get in some reading instead. When everyone returned, Harry noted Hermione still had all the books there and offered to carry her bag for her, the same as he would for his girls at home. He didn't think that much of it, to him it was just obvious. Carrying kilos of books was a pain in the back if you didn't have the muscles for it and he could tell that none of his fellow First Years had them. Hermione gave him a shy smile and accepted, Harry slinging the bag easily over a shoulder and walked off next to her among the new 'Puffs, all of them wondering what their classes would be like.
The sun shining made the greenhouse sparkle as they approached, and when they got inside, the heat was almost stifling. The students were suddenly very glad they would never have classes here over the middle of summer. They sat in a semicircle around their Head of House, who proceeded to show them various plants both magical and normal, and explained something of the properties of each, before passing around one of the safer plants in the curriculum, getting each of them to examine it and say what they noticed most about it, before she offered extra tips on things to look for and gave them a second variety to study. At the end of the lesson, the students were fairly happy, though for Wayne Hopkins that could just have been the excuse to get dirty.
They all trooped back into the castle, washing up before breaking up to go their own ways for the next hour. Hermione, naturally, wanted to check out the Library, and it was almost a tie between Justin and Harry for second. Harry brought along both parchment and quill sets and a notebook, fountain pen, pencil and eraser, as well as a couple extra books. When he and Justin met up with Hermione in their Common Room, he saw with a smile that she'd added more books too, so he again offered to carry them for her. They found their way quickly with Harry leading, only making one wrong turn thanks to the shifting passages. Harry was hopeful that eventually he would know enough of the changes that he could anticipate them before they happened. Maybe.
Their first sight of the Library was certainly designed to impress any true bibliophile. Shelves stretching into the distance, and thousands upon thousands of books old and new. Hermione guided them straight to the Librarian, Madam Pince, asking her about the rules in the Library. Her answer was crisp, almost forbidding, and conveyed a sense that Madam Pince actually viewed the books as her own personal treasures. While under other circumstances Harry might have found this amusing, he felt no temptation to laugh in front of the witch let alone at her.
The trio took a table, getting only one book each off the shelves for now as agreed, and enjoyed a rather quiet hour. That was when the silence was interrupted by a Ravenclaw boy and girl quietly arguing over the possession of a book on Arithmancy. By the sound of it there was only one copy left and they both wanted it. When the boy won the remarkably quiet contest he walked off to read it in peace and the girl looked downcast. Harry marked his place in his book and got up, walking over to her.
"Hello, I'm Harry Potter. I couldn't help hearing that you were looking for a particular book on Arithmancy. What was it called?" He asked quietly.
"Oh, Arithmancy by the Numbers: A Beginner's Guide" she replied, blushing a little, "I'm Padma Patil, by the way."
"Well, Padma, I can understand why you'd want that book," he smiled softly. "I've brought my copy with me. If you like, you could read mine?" Harry offered.
"Th- thank you!"
Harry smiled while wondering what he could do to help the others see him as Harry Potter, First Year student rather than some sort of hero. He put it aside for now, as no matter what he chose to do, the problem would be with him for a while. The girl sat down next to Justin at their table and, after quiet and quick introductions, they returned to their reading for another half-hour or so until it was time for them to pack up and prepare for their next class, Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Sadly, that class was a letdown after their engaging introduction to Herbology. The teacher had that ridiculous purple turban which he said was a gift, an obvious lie that unravelled as soon as Padma Patil asked for the story behind it. The odd smell from it was a further indication. The smell of decomposition, even masked by garlic and other scents, was strong enough Harry had to use one of the protective techniques his parents taught him against the foul odour. Quirinus Quirrell was the only person Harry had met in the school that stank of decomposition, and that alone was enough to get Harry suspicious. The man was someone to watch.
Hermione wanted to return to the Library, but Harry and Justin convinced her to come outside with them and read on the lawn, taking advantage of the blue skies. She and Justin were grateful for the picnic blanket Harry produced for them, and afterwards, Hermione admitted they were right, the fresh air (and a good book) were just what she needed after the lingering smells in the DADA classroom.
They eventually wandered in for lunch, then took a walk around the grounds exploring and admiring the scenery, and watching some older students buzzing about on brooms. Sticking close to Harry and Justin, Hermione started talking more with other first years they met on their explorations. Harry smiled openly at that; like anyone he enjoyed being right, but more than that he was seeing Hermione opening up further and he loved being able to help his friends.
By the time they went in as a group to Transfiguration, Hermione just handed Harry her bag and smiled at the in-joke. Harry took it with his own smile, and led the way to the classroom. Professor McGonagall had her professional mask firmly in place as she started the lesson with a warning:
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she began. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
From there she displayed an impressive piece of magic, turning her desk into a pig and back again. With her class suitably excited, she got started with an introduction to Transfiguration, its power, its history, its role in the Wizarding World. After a lot of note-taking, she handed out matches and instructed them to turn them into needles.
This was the moment when Harry nearly came undone.
He knew that magic and chakra didn't play well together, but he knew it as a product of the intellect. Harry's true lesson that day was a bone-deep awareness that there was something wrong with his spell casting. His every attempt caused pain to flow down his right arm, a feeling like he was burning his arm from the inside out. When he attempted to minimise the chakra flowing to his arm, that helped reduce the pain, the damage he could feel, but the feeling of magic went with it, and he couldn't even get a spark out of his wand when he tried. He spent the rest of the lesson with his attention split even more than usual, fighting not to show the pain as well as trying different ways to call up his magic without dragging along his chakra with it. He had ideas of what he would need to do, but the problem was finding one that worked. All he had to show for his efforts by the end of the lesson was a match that could almost be called silver if one squinted, a headache from the mental strain, and a way to get maybe one tenth of his magic to respond while he kept his chakra mostly suppressed. Without further testing or help from his medic parents, there was little he could do. He did remember to praise Hermione when she earned praise from McGonagall for getting her match all silver and pointy.
After class he ducked out to use a bathroom, taking the chance to perform a quick diagnostic technique, finding some minor damage that he was able to repair, feeling much better as he rejoined his friends, a term that he felt would come to encompass all five 'Puff girls, and at least two of the boys. He would try to get to be friends or at least on polite terms with all of them, but he figured seven of nine would be good enough if it didn't work out that perfectly.
Hermione headed off to the Library again. She was feeling better about being around people her own age, but it was still an adjustment for her to have friends so she was nervous about driving them off. Besides, all those books all in one place, how could she resist? Why should she? A quick goodbye to her friends and she was off with a smile.
This left an open spot by Harry's side, however, and after some looks from the girls, Justin made way too, making Harry want to roll his eyes at all of it. On the other hand, it was a chance for him to get to know the others better, and it wasn't like Justin was leaving. The next thing Harry knew, he had a girl on each arm, he shuddered inside at all the teasing he would get from his parents, though he had to smile back at each girl.
The blonde girl on his left started them off. "Hi, I'm Hannah Abbott. Me and Susan Bones over there have been best friends for years. Would you be our friend too, Harry?"
He had to give her credit, she was direct. "Of course, Hannah and Susan, I always like having more friends." He looked at the others to show he included them in the offer. "My only condition is that you want to be friends with me, Harry Potter, and not just with the Boy Who Lived."
Some of them looked a little confused, so he added. "The Boy Who Lived is some character in books. None of the writers have ever even met me, much less interviewed me, not even for the supposed history books; they just made stuff up." He saw some doubt still there, so another try. "Ok, Hannah, you wouldn't want to be treated as if you were really someone else, like say Professor McGonagall. She's smart, respected and someone well-known."
"But she's not me-" Hannah smiled, "I get it. OK, Harry, I'm happy to be your friend." She was quickly echoed by the rest, and Harry gave them a big smile, relieved that at least here he could find people who may see him for himself. Well, he amended, see the Harry that was just a normal boy. Whether he would ever get to let them see everything else was something he couldn't decide any time soon, sadly. So much of it wasn't his secret to share. The secrets that were his alone were really just about the Dursleys, and he would rather just forget all about them since he couldn't afford to kill them for what they did to an innocent child. He knew he would have to tell his friends eventually, but the thought was unpleasant to say the least.
Susan spoke up at last, "That's settled, then. Now let's head to the Great Hall. I'm hungry!" She kept her arm linked with Harry's, and between them she and Hannah dragged their new friend/possession to the Hall. Harry did remember to ask Justin if he could check on Hermione and invite her to dinner with the rest of them, a way to make sure she didn't skip meals for the sake of reading, something he was afraid she might easily do now that she had a big new library to explore.
Justin laughed, "I can see you're tied up, Harry, sure I'll grab a quick bite to take with me on the long, arduous journey."
Harry entered the Great Hall, still trapped between the two girls and felt like laughing himself, both out of relief at getting some progress on having people treat him as Harry, and also at the image he was making. The 'boy hero' dragged between two girls. He would have to remember to create more jokes in future so he didn't get too wound up. He also wondered if Hogwarts would have any movies to watch since they would be stuck in the castle or the grounds for the next three months. Failing that, he would have to see about other ways to pass the time. Not everyone would be as thrilled as his Hermione to have only a library for inspiration and relaxation.
Harry covered the sudden smile with a bite of his roast. Hermione wouldn't be the only 'Puff to spend lots of time in there. He just knew his family would love to read that Library, and with the Muggle-repelling wards around the whole grounds the only way they would get a chance was for him to copy the books there and send the copies home. He should also spend more time with Cesarina and Miyuki. A flutter caught his attention just as his snowy owl entered the hall, zooming down to his shoulder.
She preened as she instantly became the centre of attention, accepting caresses from the mostly girls that crowded around them, before rubbing her head against his cheek and looking in his eyes. He smiled ruefully. "Yes, girl, I should spend more time with you, you're such a beautiful owl, aren't you?" Miyuki clacked her beak and nodded then settled on his shoulder, satisfied that her place at the top of the pecking order was secured. Harry then spent a few minutes showing Miyuki off to everyone, something he knew she enjoyed, before writing a quick note and tying it around her proffered leg. "Would you take this to my parents, Miyuki? Oh, and the note asks them to give you a proper feed when you get there. I know you've missed your bacony goodness." With a quick nod, Miyuki was off out of there again.
No sooner was she gone than Cesarina hopped up onto his lap, looking at him with a clear look that said, "Feed me, now." Cutting up strips of meat for the tiger-striped cat, he fed her, much to the amusement of those watching, as he kept up conversation with his friends. A quick signal and Cesarina got up carefully, making her rounds of the Hall. By the time she returned, Hermione had been retrieved from the Library by Justin, and took a seat opposite Harry, cooing at the beautiful feline who promptly abandoned Harry and occupied Hermione's lap, cadging extra food from the girl.
Over dinner, the group talked about their lessons, their teachers, the other students, and also their home lives. After dinner, he took a second to tell his clones to dispel providing him a more developed map of the Castle and the grounds. Three replacements were now sent to start investigating anything interesting, one would read further through the books, one watching his back and one keeping a general eye out around him. They chatted until it was time to head back before curfew, with most of them chatting more, keeping the noise down so those reading wouldn't be disturbed.
Another peaceful night's sleep and Harry was up at 6am again, going for his morning run and headed down to breakfast where the students again trickled in. After eating and heading off to class - another run down to the greenhouses for Herbology - he started his lessons for the day. In the hour break before History of Magic, Hermione had to be calmed down again; she had become very excited about being taught by an actual ghost. Sadly, the class was a failure, as the ghost of Professor Binns droned on and on while they took notes, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Hermione demanded some time with Cesarina after that disappointment, though he caught her smile. After lunch, it was time for their first Charms class with the Head of Ravenclaw, Professor Flitwick. He was a tiny wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. Harry wondered why he didn't use something else, but perhaps it was his way of joking about his height, or maybe it was something he did to make people underestimate him. When he reached Harry's name during roll call, Harry caught him faking an excited squeak before he allowed himself to topple off the desk. Harry noted that there was no sound of his fall and nodded mentally. It was a ruse, and it did help to make his class more friendly.
Wednesday was much the same, their last Herbology and Transfiguration classes for the week, and Astronomy at midnight up at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Their teacher, Professor Sinistra had an engaging style and brought her subject to life, despite the tired students, but it was obvious that she was limited by inferior equipment. And while interesting in its own right, they couldn't see a relevance between the subject and anything else they needed to learn, nor were they told of practical applications. Harry held out hope, after it was early days, even at midnight, to be calling the subject useless or outdated. She did question him closely about his telescope, a modern one he got from a specialist shop in London 'on the Muggle side' as his Professor put it. Sakura-mum had raved about this model to the rest of the family, and when they saw that he was required to bring his own telescope to Hogwarts she made the sacrifice of her very own one. She said she would just buy the next model when it came out, something Harry didn't doubt for a minute.
Thursday all the First Year 'Claws and 'Puffs were tired, even Harry - though that didn't stop him waking up for his regular run. Thankfully their first class was History at ten thirty. Harry made a bet with Justin the night before that someone would fall asleep in class and that the Professor wouldn't even notice. That would be followed by DADA, then lunch and their second Charms class. 'Well, one good class out of three, at least,' he thought. For what was supposed to be a great school of magic, Harry was distinctly unimpressed, and he had heard that their last subject, Potions, could be even worse as the teacher hated teaching. These musings fled his mind as one of his clones popped itself, and he slipped out of sight heading towards an ugly scene. Over near the Slytherin Dungeons, a clone had seen three boys following a red-headed girl. When he identified the three boys as Draco Malfoy and his guards, a sadistic expression adorning the arrogant blond's face, he dispelled to get 'the Boss', as his Shadow Clones called the real Harry, to the scene to handle it.
The girl, Daphne he remembered, was backed up against a stone wall, the door she thought to use turning out to be another fake. Before her, three fellow Slytherins tried to loom over her. Since she was inches taller than any of them, it wasn't working too well, so then they crowded her. That ponce Malfoy was lecturing her about 'better families' and how 'those from poor Swedish roots' ought to recognise their betters. He was just about to boast for the fifth time of his family's wealth and power when he and his goons lost their balance, falling painfully to the sticky stone floor, face down and now stuck.
She looked behind them and saw THE Harry Potter with a fixed, neutral expression on his face. The owner of those green eyes walked over calmly, offered her a hand and guided her away, blocking her view of the now humiliated trio. Once she was away and out of danger, he gave a short bow and disappeared around a corner. The Sticky Capture Field technique he used vanished, leaving only the three boys now stuck to each other in a compromising position.
Harry had to walk quickly to make it to his first class, but overall he was pleased with himself. He had stopped the incident before it went too far, he had saved the girl, and he had managed to refrain from beating those fools to within an inch of their lives. While satisfying at the time, he knew he didn't want to go that far for something that likely wasn't even a crime, yet. Besides, the consequences for doing that he didn't even know, which would have made it extremely foolish. Still, he did feel good about what he had done. He got through his classes, not even mentioning the confrontation to his friends since he didn't yet have an explanation for how he got there.
Harry decided that Murphy must have been watching him because things did not go according to his plan. Later that day, Harry was tracked down by the elder cousin Mark Wilkinson who bowed slightly to him, saying he felt he owed Harry for helping out Daphne when he had no need. Harry pondered briefly and asked Mark if he would mind hearing Harry out.
"Normally, I'd just tell you that you don't owe me anything for that. However, this isn't the same society I grew up in. I mean, I've not even been here a week and that's glaringly obvious to me. As such, I'll exercise some caution, and indulge in some Ravenclaw curiosity." He took a breath and looked seriously up at the 4th Year Slytherin. "I don't intend any insult to you, to Daphne, or your family, so if that means you owe me, then I would consider the debt paid if you could help arrange lessons in your culture. If it's a more informal thing, a thank you for helping family, well, truly, your thanks aren't needed, I was happy to help her out against bullies. If that gets me another friend or two, then that's the icing on the cake."
The older boy was taken aback, this was not at all what he'd expected from the Boy Who Lived, and especially the way he identified the Wizarding World as foreign. Still, it was certainly apparent that he was trying to settle in. The serious way he took the situation was a pleasant surprise, Mark decided, as was the offer of friendship both to him and to his cute little cousin Daphne. If cultivated, that could certainly help him in his career prospects, and help restore the family fortunes, something they needed as the last half century had been costly both in blood and money, what with the reduced sales that a smaller population imposed on their businesses. Not that Mark knew all of that history just yet, only that the family had had to cut back on certain expenses, and then again in his own childhood. The lavish balls and parties of his parents' youth were unavailable to his generation, something he was starting to really miss given how it was hurting his dating prospects - as his teenage hormones were reminding him hourly. Coming out of his thoughts, he allowed his smile to show, and offered his hand to Harry. "You know, Potter, I believe I'd like another friend. And I can see that you aren't like I expected."
Harry smiled back up at Mark as he shook hands with the older boy. They discussed a few minor matters, helping to break the ice, before heading their separate ways. Mark later that night let Daphne know of Harry's offer of friendship, an opportunity she seized the following day at breakfast.
His practice spellcasting that evening showed some progress too, he was able to cast his first successful spell but the pain was intense. He wouldn't call it a success until he could cast without such a crippling distraction. The nerve damage was more than a little worrying, too, though his clones healed that within a minute. As long as he stayed on top of it, especially if his parents could find a solution, the damage shouldn't become a long-term problem. He'd get the clones at home to let them know in the next day or two. After all, the damage was being healed and they couldn't visit him soon enough for the delay to matter and it was a secure way to pass on message. 'Hmm, maybe that would work for my little copying project.'
Once again, I am astounded by the response to my first story. Thank you for taking the time to read my work. As always, feedback is appreciated.