"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

The first thing Harry realized right on the first day was that other students took him for some sort of curiosity. From the moment he left the dormitory, wherever he moved, their whispers followed him around and their stares followed everything he did. Part of Harry really disliked this, because their stares made him feel uneasy, which made first eating breakfast unpleasant and then it made it harder for him to get around in the castle and to get to his first class. Particularly, since it caused him to get separated from his housemates.

To get some peace, he quickly hid behind one of the bigger statues on the ground floor, hoping to get rid of the staring students and think about what he should do. He couldn´t ask Hedwig or Colonel for help, because the owl was helping the penguin to hide from the teachers, so the young wizard was left to deal with this all alone.

"What should I do?" Harry asked himself with a sad sigh.

"Meow?" the soft sound came from next to him and looking here, Harry found a slim dust-grey cat staring right back at him.

"Oh, hello, miss kitty," the boy greeted the cat, as he slowly bent down and reached a hand to her. The female cat eyed the offered hand for a moment before she brushed the side of her mouth against his fingers. The raven-haired boy smiled at this and gently scratched the cat behind one ear, which earned him a loud purring approval of the cat. "Sorry, I didn´t see you here. I thought I was alone."

"Meow. Meow meow meow?" the grey cat asked, opening her big yellow eyes to look at him.

"I wanted some peace from all the staring and whispering of the others," Harry admitted with a soft sigh.

The cat nodded in understanding. "Meow. Meow meow meow meow."

"I´m glad somebody understands. I mean, I´m sure they don´t mean anything bad by it, but it just makes things harder for me. Especially, since I got lost because of it and now can´t find my classroom."

"Meow?"

"Yeah, I got sorted yesterday."

"Meow meow?"

"I´m supposed to have Defence against Dark Arts now."

The cat tilted her head to the side. "Meow meow?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "Really? You wouldn´t mind?"

"Meow meow. Meow."

The boy smiled. "That would be nice. Thank you, miss… Sorry, I forgot to ask. What´s your name?"

"Meow."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs Norris. My name is Harry Potter. Thank you for showing me around," Harry petted the cat for the last time, then followed her as she turned around and started walking away. She led him farther away from the statue to a big tapestry with dragons, and then she disappeared behind it. Harry moved the tapestry slightly away and followed her, entering a secret corridor. They kept walking through it and Harry used the time to ask the cat about the castle.

As he found out from Mrs Norris, there were a total number of one hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts of all kinds of shapes, some leading to different places on different days and some disappearing when one walked on them. Harry, personally, found the latter example worrying and wondered why nobody did anything to correct it. Mrs Norris had no idea either. So instead, he asked if there were other wonky things like this and Mrs Norris told him about the odd doors. Doors that you had to be polite to or know a special method to open, or solid walls pretending to be doors. She also recommended asking the people in portraits if the boy needed help with direction in the future and she would be unavailable to help. Apparently, not only did the portraits move, but the people in them can visit each other, so they know the castle´s layout. Harry even jokingly asked if the coats of armour he saw before, could walk around, to which the cat said that only if the castle was in danger. Then they would move to defend the students and get rid of the attackers. Harry thought it to be a cool defence system.

Mrs Norris also warned him about some of the ghosts living in the castle. To be specific, she warded him against letting them glide through you. Apparently, it was a very nasty feeling that can make a weaker person ill. She also said to look out for Peeves the Poltergeist, because he was a menace that lived to annoy people. The young wizard believed this, remembering the conversation the ghosts had from yesterday and made a mental note to warn Ron.

Finally, Harry asked her about the secret passages, like the one they were in now. To that, she explained about them being a system going through the whole castle, from the top towers to the underground dungeons.

"That sounds cool. Do other students know about this?" Harry questioned, as he remembered that he saw nobody besides the cat here.

The cat looked back at him. "Meow meow meow… meow meow meow meow."

"Just your owner and a pair of ´annoying red-haired brats´?" repeated the boy in confusion.

"Meow meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow," explained Mrs Norris, sounding fond while talking about her owner. Then her tone changed as she became annoyed. "Meow meow meow meow meow. Meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow. Meow meow meow. Meow meow meow meow."

Wow, she really dislikes those two, Harry thought. They must have given her and this Mr Filch a lot of grief. He hoped that this year will be different.

Suddenly they arrived at the end of the passage and emerged from behind another tapestry. They ended at some corridor and to Harry´s delight, he saw his year mates from Ravenclaw. He quickly turned towards his companion: "Thank you for your help with finding my class and classmates, Mrs Norris."

"Meow meow," replied the cat, rubbing against his leg, then turning back to the secret passage. "Meow meow meow."

"Have a nice day too, Mrs Norris," smiled the boy as the cat disappeared behind the tapestry. Then he turned around and hurried towards his classmates.

As the time passed, the young wizard learned that he was right in his expectations and that there was more to magic than just waving one´s wand and saying a few spells. The first class with professor Quirrell made it clear as he described the adventures he lived through and the dangerous creatures he faced. Harry found it interesting, although he always left the man´s class with a mild headache. He had to wonder if it was because of the teacher´s shutter or the strong garlic odour clogging the air in the room, that caused it. Maybe it was a mixture of the two?

Thankfully, the other classes were less headache-inducting than the DADA, so that made things easier for the young raven.

History of Magic, while seeming interesting in theory and because the teacher himself was a ghost, was a boring class. The only reason Harry didn´t fall asleep to Professor Binns´ monotone droning, was because he instead chose to focus on reading the book, making the teacher´s voice seem like some soothing background noise. It worked well enough, particularly when the young raven realized that the teacher was word-to-word repeating the things from the textbook, so any study notes he made were from the reading material.

Herbology with Professor Sprout (the head of the Hufflepuff House as Harry learned later) was something the boy enjoyed. The classes were held in the greenhouses behind the castle, and it was a mix of theory and practical classes. Specifically, they were learning through experience how to take care of different magical plants and fungi, while the professor explained what they were, what proprieties they had and what can they be used for. Harry enjoyed it, since it reminded him of the only house chore, that he didn´t mind, back at Private Drive – gardening. It was a relaxing thing and gave a rewarding feeling when the plants prospered and gave a beautiful picture to look at.

Astronomy was also a nice class since Harry found it pleasant to watch and study the night sky through the telescopes. He was a big fan of mythology and animal and in a way, this class combined these two things. After all, a lot of the constellations were tied to mythology and legends, such as the Andromeda or Cassiopeia, or they got their names after animals, like the Crow or the Scorpion constellations. And on top of it, they learned about the different stars and the movement of the planets.

Though the classes Harry enjoyed the most were Charms and Transfiguration since they were the two classes Ravenclaw shared with Gryffindor, Ron´s house.

The Charms were a class taught by the Ravenclaw Head of the House, Professor Flitwick. Harry knew it was going to be interesting, from the first moment he saw the tiny wizard during the welcoming speech on the first morning here. The man was very thorough in explaining how charms worked and why it is important to focus on correct wand movement and pronunciation.

The class with Professor McGonagall, Ron´s Head of the House, was just like Harry imagined her to be since the moment they met – a strict woman with a no-nonsense attitude. But she was also clever and brilliant, as the first lesson with her demonstrated. Harry liked that, considering what he read from the class material, Transfiguration was a very complex and dangerous type of magic that, for if someone messed it up, there could be dire consequences. Especially with the trick the professor used for demonstration as she transfigured her desk into a pig and turned it back. The young wizard could see various scenarios this could have gone horribly wrong (even traumatizing their class for life) if the spell was cast by someone less experienced with magic.

It was also why the boy was relieved that they started on something simpler, like turning matches into needles. It took a bit of trying, but to his own surprise, Harry and a girl from Gryffindor, Hermione, were the first of the class to manage to do it all the way it was supposed to, earning five points to their respective houses.

"Blimey, how did you do it?" asked Ron in whispers.

"Um… I read on the material… and it said that you had to visualize… the process of turning something… into something else…" Harry tried to explain quietly, but he had a hard time finding the best words. That´s until an idea occurred to him. "In winter, you and your brothers would sometimes get into snowball fights, right?"

"Yeah?" replied Ron, slightly confused.

"Well, in such a fight, you use your hands to shape the snow into snowballs, right? This situation is similar: The hands are your magic. The snow is the match. And the snowball is the needle. So, to do the spell, you just must visualise using your ´hands´ taking the ´snow´ and forming it into a ´snowball´," explained Harry, then added "At least that´s the closes I can explain how I understood the theory from the textbook. It is all about intent and imagination, so if you visualize the process before casting, it should help. And remember that needles are made of silver metal, while matches are made of wood."

"Oh…oh, good idea, mate," Ron grinned at him. "Thanks."

"A good idea, indeed. Ten points for Ravenclaw, for such a well-thought metaphor on the process of transfiguration," came McGonagall´s voice, making the young raven jump in his seat. The boy turned to look at her, seeing the small smile on her face, before she turned to the chalkboard and charmed the chalk to write down what Harry said. That caused the boy to blush, even more so, when others wrote it down and then tried the spell again, this time with bigger success than before.

The blush didn´t ease from the boy´s face for a long while, particularly after the compliments he earned from his housemates.

However, compared to Transfiguration, Potions were a more tense subject. Which was a shame because Harry was looking forward to the class. From the textbook, it seemed akin to cooking with an extra twist, which was an activity the young raven rather liked. He didn´t even mind the fact that the class took place in the dungeons, which seemed to creep out some of Harry´s classmates, particularly with the glass jars filled with pickled potion ingredients lined up around the walls.

All of that was alright, but what made the class tense for him was because of the teacher, Professor Snape. With him here, the boy had the tense feeling as if he was being judged by someone who had a less than stellar view of him. It was clear when the class started and he was making a roll call, pausing at Harry´s name.

"Ah, Yes," the Head of the Slytherin house said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity."

Harry could feel his entire body tense up, hoping like hell that the class wouldn´t end up badly. The feeling eased somehow (but did not leave until long after the class) when the man finished calling the names and looked up at the class.

At the sight of those black eyes, the boy had to pause. They reminded him of a dog that he met a few years back, behind the dumpsters at his primary school. It was an old mix of several races. One that clearly had more than a few fights on his consciousness, as he was literally covered in scars and missing a lot of his dark fur. But what his eyes were what was the most interesting about him – they were cold and empty, like someone who saw the darker side of the world and lived. He knew pain but moved on because of sheer stubbornness and determination not to break.

It was a gaze that Harry would never forget, not even when the dog finally passed away.

Professor Snape had eyes just like that.

And when he spoke, a spark of passion appeared in those eyes.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began, his voice quiet, but with an enchanting quality that silenced the class without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don´t expect you till really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the sense… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stop death… That is if you aren´t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

The class was silent after this little speech, and Harry couldn´t help but wonder if this was the usual welcome the man gave to every first-year class he had to teach.

"Potter!" the sound of his name caused the boy to straighten in his seat. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

The boy thought for a few seconds before he answered: "A powerful sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death, sir."

The older raven´s eyebrow rose as if he wasn´t expecting to receive an actual answer, but he continued with his questions: "And where, Potter, would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

This time Harry was quicker to give his answer. "In the stomach of a goat, sir."

"And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They are the same plant, sir. And if I remember correctly… it is also known as aconite."

"Will wonder never cease – a celebrity that does not let the fame get into their head. And that will probably be three points for Ravenclaw, Potter," mused the black-clad man and Harry barely suppressed a twitch. He failed to do so when the man barked at others: "Well? Why aren´t you copying that down?"

It could have been worse, Harry tried to reassure himself.

Thankfully, the class did not deteriorate from there. True, the atmosphere was tense, as they were all put into pairs and set to mix up a potion to cure boils, but thankfully there was not a single incident. Despite how many students were scared by Professor Snape´s sudden appearance behind them, as he criticized their work, nobody managed to make any "dangerous" mistakes. True, nobody made a perfect potion, but a faulty potion was still better than one exploding or worse. Harry even managed to make one of the least faulty ones, on his first try. Probably thanks to his experience with cooking all the meals at the Dursleys´ house.

But, by the end of the class, the raven-haired boy still couldn´t shake off the feeling that the professor was judging him. He looked at him as if to decide what to think about him, while at the same time waiting for even the slightest "mistake" the man could exploit. The man didn´t even seem happy when he couldn´t find more than a few mistakes with Harry´s potion.

When the class ended, the boy was relieved, although he couldn´t help but wonder if the professor hated him.