The Gryffindors had to go through Peeves to get to their House that first evening, and then Kiara took Harry aside once they were in the cozy common room to congratulate him on his Sorting, so he was dead tired when he finally got to his dormitory. But he had promised his cousin he would write the evening after Sorting and had explicitly instructed Hedwig to fly to his bedroom so that he could send the letter. Seeing her there now, he sighed and sat down to work.

Dear cousin,

Hogwarts is wonderful so far. I have been sorted into Gryffindor, but then, we all expected that, didn't we? Ron and Neville are both here with me, along with a bunch of people I have only just met – Seamus, Dean, Sophie, and the last two girls were Parvati and Lavender, I think. Sorry, I know you would be interested in the surnames, but I don't remember them! Maybe in the next letter.

Here Harry hesitated, but then continued.

There was a couple of strange things happening at the welcoming feast. For one, Headmaster announced that if we went into the third floor corridor on the right side, we would die a very unpleasant death. He didn't sound like he was joking either. It's a bit strange, isn't it? No one seemed to know what it was about, not even the prefects.

And the other thing, well, I wouldn't bother you with this if Neville hadn't said it was kinda important...but my scar started to hurt quite strongly out of the blue when I was sitting at dinner. It stopped almost immediately, but still, I don't remember it ever happening before. Do you have any ideas what could be behind it?

Give my greetings to cousin Alexandra and little Wynn, and I hope you are well,

Harry

He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and patted her head before carrying her to the window and letting her go. Then, he gratefully fell into bed.

He dreamed of Professor Quirrell's turban whispering strange things to him as his scar hurt, and Alduin suddenly appearing to say: "Oh Harry! Haven't I told you a thousand times? Never look at men with strange head-coverings! Terrible things happen to those who do! Alexandra read so in one of her history books." Harry wanted to protest that no, he had never got that particular warning, but he couldn't talk in the dream. He was rather grateful when it changed to simple dragons chasing him, even though he remembered neither part in the morning.

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The next morning, all the Gryffindor first-year boys came down to breakfast together, and even managed without getting lost too much, thanks to Neville's idea of asking the portraits for the way. The girls were already there, Sophie yawning widely. "Aren't you tired?" She asked them accusingly.

"Not anymore, but I was dead on my feet last evening," Harry replied, then turned to Lavender and Parvati. "I don't think I've introduced myself yesterday. Hi, I'm Harry Potter."

They all exchanged their names, and were chatting lively by the time Professor McGonnagal came over to them with their new timetables. Harry checked his impatiently. They were to start with Transfiguration, which Neville said was her class, and then there would be Charms – this time, it was Harry who knew they were taught by Professor Flitwick. After lunch, they had Defence with Professor Quirell, which made Harry feel a little nervous even though he told himself it was silly, and ended with Herbology. Neville was really excited about that, and soon got everyone else caught up in it a little – everyone besides Parvati, who did not seem to like the idea of mucking about in dirt too much, even if it involved flowers.

They were getting ready to get up and go to class when Harry felt his two-way mirror grow warm in the inner pocket of his robes. Curious, he took it out and found his cousin's face looking at him. "Do you have a moment, Harry?" He asked.

"Sure, we were just about to head to class, but we have time..."

"That's fine, you can talk to me on the way, at least it will be more quiet than the Great Hall!"

So the Gryffindors got up and left, and Harry asked his cousin: "What's the matter?"

"Well, your letter raised some questions, so I thought it best to answer them this way. First, about your scar. Do you remember what you were doing when it started hurting?"

"Yeah...I was done eating, and I was looking at the High Table. I was just thinking about Professor Quirell and his turban when my scar hurt."

"Hm. Quirell. Very well. As for the third-floor corridor, I don't like it at all. Do not under any circumstances try to open the door leading there, but if you could try to listen at it or look through the keyhole, it would be helpful for determining what is there and how dangerous it is. I don't like asking this of you, but I like not knowing even less."

Harry grinned at that. He didn't doubt it in the slightest. "It's not a problem," he said. "Will do. Say hello to cousin Alexandra."

"I will, and you say hello to Neville and Ron from me. Have a great first day of classes, Harry!"

And with that, Alduin's face was gone.

Back at the Travers Manor, however, he frowned. Quirell now...he would have to find out what he could. He did not like this – he did not like this at all.

He sighed. He did not have the time to deal with this now – the last several months have been hectic, and he had been looking forward to Harry being at Hogwarts, because it would mean much more free time for him. He decidedly did not need any weirdness happening at school.

They dined with the Shacklebolts the evening of the day Alduin had received this message, and Alduin used this opportunity to discreetly consult Kingsley on the matter. "I quite agree with you," the man said, "I don't like it. I'm no scientist as you know, so I can't offer you any explanations, but I absolutely agree that it bears watching. Both the scar and Quirrell."

Yes, that was rather what Alduin had been afraid of. He wanted to consult the matter with more people, but the ones who he could trust were few and far between. Short visits to Abdullah and Mercurius before leaving for the postponed honeymoon were probably indicated. And once away from Britain, Alduin would use that time to think about the matter in detail.

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During the first day of classes, Harry had the opportunity to find out that Prfoessor McGonnagal was strict, Professor Flitwick was strangely excitable (seriously, squeeing when he read his name? He would have to ask his cousin about that), Professor Quirrell stuttered something dreadful and Professor Sprout was a very kindly woman. He also sort of understood why Neville liked Herbology – in that class, Harry at least felt he did something. His efforts in Transfiguration had been completely useless, even though he had earned some points for knowing the theory.

Herbology was also nice because they got to see someone else apart from their Gryffindor group in that class. Harry was surprised to meet the Hufflepuffs there, before he remembered Alduin telling him that Herbology was a shared class, like Potions.

"Hello," he said, nodding to Hannah, Susan, Ernie and Zach.

They all returned his greeting, and Ernie pointed to the boy standing by his side. "This is Justin Finch-Fletchley," he said.

Harry introduced himself and Neville and Ron, who had walked down to the greenhouses by his side, followed. They all shook hands. "How was your first day?" Harry asked the Hufflepuffs.

"Scary," Hannah muttered. "We had Potions in the morning, and Professor Snape is terrifying."

Harry frowned. "Really?" he asked. "I met him and – well, I mean, he isn't the pleasantest person ever, I guess, but he didn't seem really terrifying."

"Well, you're a Gryffindor," Ron muttered, and Harry rolled his eyes as Zach made a rude sound, this time quite deserved.

"While I would not use such strong words as Hannah," Ernie said in his usual pompous tone, "I certainly agree that it was very impressive and dramatic. There was this speech at the beginning of class..."

"I didn't like him much either," Susan confessed. "Like Ernie said, he was just so dramatic. The other teachers don't seem to do that, do they?"

All of this made Harry wonder about their first Potions class very much. Most of his thoughts, however, were occupied by the third-floor corridor, and after Herbology was done, all of the Gryffindor first-years headed there do do what Harry's cousin had asked them to. He'd briefed them on the matter in the morning before classes, and now Neville, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender kept a watch-out for teachers and the caretaker, while Harry, Ron, Dean and Sophie approached the door. "Can you hear anything?" Harry whispered.

"Yeah...it sounds kinda like growling, doesn't it?" Sophie muttered.

Ron agreed. "I bet they have some sort of animal in there."

"All right, let's try the keyhole." Harry bent down, but to his disappointment, found that the corridor behind was completely dark. "Oh well," Ron said, shrugging, "at least you have something to tell your cousin."

Harry nodded, but he was feeling disappointed and hesitated writing home with such meagre findings.

The next morning, however, he received a letter from Alexandra. She wrote that since he spoke with Alduin yesterday, she though that she would write the first letter instead, and told him all about their planned honeymoon. It certainly merited an answer, and since he was writing already, Harry included that little tidbit at the end of the letter he wrote in the evening, the majority of which was devoted to his complaints about the boring history teacher, of whom he had just had his first experience. His cousins certainly hadn't exaggerated on this score, and after having them teach him history for some time the contrast was almost painful. He was also, unexpectedly, missing Mrs. Bagshot.

Harry had now experienced every class except for Potions and Astronomy. He wasn't particularly excited about the second, but the first made him curious. Thinking on the way from class on Wednesday, after his expectations being confirmed in History and his disappointment in Defence, he decided that out of the classes he already had, his favorite was probably Charms. Professor Flitwick got over his squeaking and seemed a good teacher, and they have already managed to do colourful sparks in his class, which while not much compared to the magic he had seen adults do was still pretty cool in Harry's books, on account of being the first actual intentional magic he had ever done.

Defence, on the other hand...Professor Quirrel's stutter didn't get better with time, and neither did he start seeming less weird. Harry had felt another pang of pain in his scar in that class once, though weaker, and it made him very uncomfortable. And really, the classes were a joke. They had had two so far, and both made Harry feel that he'd be much better off reading the book. He considered the matter of writing to his cousin to tell him about it. No doubt he would be given more reading, like he had in history. The problem was, he kind of wanted the tips for the books – he just wished he didn't have to write the summaries. It was too exhausting.

"Earth to Harry," Sophie said next to him, with a laugh.

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Oh, right, sorry."

"What were you thinking about?" Neville wondered.

"The classes. Defence really is a joke, isn't it?"

"Not sure about Defence, but Quirrell totally is," Ron said.

"Yeah, that's what I meant. It's really irritating, though – I mean, it's super important, isn't it?"

"Well, they say there's a new Defence teacher every year," Ron commented, "so at least we won't be stuck with this one for too long."

Sophie groaned. "A year? That's forever!"

"Better then seven," Neville summed it up succinctly.

"Why is there a new teacher every year?" Dean asked curiously.

Ron took on an important expression. "They say the position is cursed," he said. "No one can last longer, for one reason or another."

"Do things like this actually happen?" Sophie asked. "I never know what is just Muggle stories and what is real."

"It happens," Neville confirmed seriously, "but it's really hard to do. Whoever did the cursing must have been really powerful."

"Well, obviously – I mean, otherwise Dumbledore would have broken the curse, right?" Seamus pointed out.

"Right," Ron agreed.

Harry considered this. "Do we know how long has the curse been on the job?"

"Well, it's already been a thing when my parents were at school," the red-headed boy replied.

"Oh."

"What is it?"

"Nothing, It was just an idea."

"What was?"

"Well, I was thinking, who is so powerful that Dumbledore couldn't break the curse? And I thought of Riddle...but if the curse is this old, it must have been someone else."

"Riddle?" Seamus asked, uncomprehending.

"Oh, right. Um...that's You-Know-Who's given name, but it's kinda secret, so...please don't tell anyone? I'm just so used to calling him that way, it slipped out, but it could get you in trouble if you said it in public."

Seamus looked worried now. "You know his name, and how old he was?" He asked, surprised.

"Not really how old he was, no – but the war started at the beginning of the seventies, didn't it? So I don't think if he was powerful enough to do stuff like that already ten years before that, he'd have started the war straight out otherwise, wouldn't he have?"

"I guess," Seamus replied, still not looking quite himself.