Happiest Birthday to the best boys - Professor Neville Longbottom and DMLE Head Harry Potter! 3

Even though Harry had missed a year in Hogwarts, the walls and floors were still familiar that he knew where to turn to arrive to the classrooms. It was also helpful in avoiding people who were shamelessly gawking at him, trying to peek at his scar, to make sure he really was The Boy Who Lived.

Harry led his classmates to their first-ever Charms class on Classroom 2E. They shared this class with Ravenclaws. Arriving there, only two people were present: Professor Filius Flitwick and Victor Rosier. As the Gryffindors settled on their seats, Harry approached Victor who was very immersed with the book he was reading. Following behind were Hermione, Ron, and Neville.

"Er—hello," said Harry quietly.

This shocked Victor from his concentration and promptly slammed the book shut. Was he always this jumpy? Victor's eyes widened in recognition of the person who disturbed him.

"Hello, I'm—"

"Harry Potter," said Victor as he inclined his head, "Everybody probably knows you."

"Er—yes, people seem to know me," muttered Harry.

"To what do I owe this honor?" asked Victor.

"Well, I just wanted to introduce myself, seeing as you already know Hermione and Neville and came to check on them when you thought Malfoy was troubling them," said Harry.

Victor blinked owlishly before he spoke, "Oh. Oh! Er, right, yeah. Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Victor—Victor Rosier."

Ron also introduced himself while Neville and Hermione greeted Victor.

"Say, Victor, can we sit here?" asked Harry, and while Victor was confused, he nodded. Harry beamed. The Ravenclaws trickled as it neared 9 AM, Professor Flitwick hasn't even peeked at the people who have arrived. Well, Professor Flitwick has always been more lenient towards school rules.

As the bell rang, Professor Flitwick climbed to standing on a pile of books to see over his desk. He took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

"Er— Professor? Are you alright?" his classmates asked as they echoed concern on Professor Flitwick's situation.

"Quite," squeaked Professor Flitwick as he returned to his position.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat as he beckoned everyone to listen, "Good morning, everyone! I hope you're finding Hogwarts magical and beyond your expectations. Now, seeing as this is your first class, a basic introduction to magic would suffice.

"Magic is a supernatural force that changed aspects of the world at fundamental levels. As you all may well know, it is a hereditary trait, it's either you have it or you don't. You must think of wielding magic not as a chore, but to exploit it in more creative ways, after all, magic is also an expression," said Professor Flitwick, his wand spouting illusionary shapes and colors which made the student pay him rapt attention.

"Magic exists in all forms. There are different kinds of magic and it varies from user to user. We have the wizard magic, which remains most refined, and the magic of magical beings like goblins, house-elves, veelas, centaurs and the like. Magical creatures also have their own forms of magic, for example, Wampus cats can hypnotize, the phoenix can heal injuries, the thunderbird can summon lightning, and fairies are able to perform rudimentary magic."

Harry can see Hermione furiously scribbling notes – so was Ron and Neville in a much slower pace. Victor, on the other hand, was just writing important points.

Professor Flitwick continued, "Now, wizards are most refined when channeling their magic through their wands. But a wizard can also perform magic without a wand and without uttering a word. As you all are beginners, you are trained to get used to performing magic and that is why we will be using our wands. It is much easier and much safer for everyone involved.

"Spells are tools for wizards that they use for their everyday tasks. Spells require four fundamental factors to be properly accounted in order to succeed: wand movement, incantation, concentration, and intention. This holds true since one wrong step and all your plans could come crashing down. For example, someone is after you but you got the wand movement wrong – instead of casting a protection spell, you cast nothing and you got hit by the incoming spell. Or the spell could backfire on you," said Professor Flitwick leveling the class with a serious and stern expression.

"There are seven types of spells and their difficulty differs from each other: transfiguration alters an object's form or appearance; charms alter an object's inherent qualities; jinxes bring irritating but amusing, playful inconvenience; hex affects an object in a negative manner which is a major inconvenience; curses are the worst kind of spells; counter-spell protects; and healing spell improves conditions.

"To formally begin this Charms class, I want you to bring out your wands. The first spell you will be learning is how to produce light – the Wand-Lighting Charm – and consequently, turn it off, or the Wand. Now, who could tell me who created these spells?" asked Professor Flitwick.

Almost half the Ravenclaws' hands shot up in the air, while Hermione was the only one to do so in Gryffindor.

"Very well, Miss Granger?"

"The Wand-Lighting Charm and Wand-Extinguishing Charm were both created by Levina Monkstanley, an Unspeakable who surprised her colleagues one day by lighting the tip of his wand to find a dropped quill."

"Oho, excellent! Take five points," said Professor Flitwick. "And who can tell me the incantation?"

Once again, Hermione's hand shot up in the air but Victor beat her to it. "Yes, Mister Rosier?"

"Lumos and Nox, Professor."

"Take five points, Mister Rosier!"

They were on the way to their next class, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and though it may be Harry's favorite Hogwarts subject, he felt little inclination towards the instructors, except for Remus… and Snape, probably. But the rest didn't know that their professor was incompetent and possessed by Voldemort so he can't really blame them for feeling excited.

"Charms class was exciting, don't you agree?" gushed Hermione as they made their way to the temporary DADA classroom.

Neville nodded enthusiastically, while Victor just gave a hum of agreement. Ron voiced out his opinions, "It wasn't bad. I like doing practical stuff."

Neville and Ron only managed to make their wands briefly flicker but they got awarded points for Gryffindor for it. Victor and Hermione managed to get it after a first few tries, and Harry followed their lead afterwards and the three of them were awarded ten points. Victor had integrated into the quartet seamlessly because Hermione and Harry had often included him in the conversation, although he really was quiet as Luna had described.

Before they entered the classroom, a strong acidic smell had already reached their noses. Harry groaned inwardly; he'll have to endure Quirrell's garlic for the year. But it was clear to everyone now that Quirrell's lessons would turn out to be a joke. The Ravenclaws looked like they'd rather be self-studying – and what's worse is Quirrell was a Ravenclaw himself.

After DADA, they had a lunch break and although it was usual for students to eat at their own tables, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville sat with Victor at the Ravenclaw table. Hermione and Victor were worried about the teachers taking points from them.

"Are you sure, you want to accompany me to the table? Teachers and prefects might deduct points you know," asked Victor, he was unsure how to act with these Gryffindors who had seemingly adopted him.

"Of course, Victor! Right, Nev, Ron, Hermione?" asked Harry and the two boys nodded along merrily. Hermione, on the other hand, was a tough sell.

"Harry," hissed Hermione, "it's frowned upon to eat at other Houses' table."

Harry didn't get why Hermione was hissing when the entirety of Great Hall had turned to gawk at Harry's actions.

"I don't see why you're so worried, Hermione, there's nothing against sitting in other Houses' tables during mealtimes. The only thing that wasn't allowed was bringing other Houses to their dormitories," dismissed Harry as he continued to walk towards Ravenclaw table.

"But—"

"But nothing, Hermione. If you don't want to accompany me, then go ahead. But I want to know more about our friend, Victor. In my opinion, anyone who has qualms about students mingling with other houses and sitting at different tables is restricting Inter-House Unity," said Harry loudly for equal measure so that everyone can hear his logic.

Hermione digested this information and decided that he was correct and sat at the Ravenclaw table. The older Ravenclaws didn't know what to do and merely stared at the four Gryffindor first years.

"Hello, everyone," said Harry to the other Ravenclaw first years who were staring at him with wide eyes as he took his seat. "I hope you don't mind us intruding on your table."

Harry discreetly peeked at the High Table and saw Minerva McGonagall's mouth moving while her lips was plastered into a smile talking to an amused Filius Flitwick and Albus Dumbledore, their eyes on Harry's group. They seemed to have approved of his actions, as the other students began sitting with their common friends. Not everyone but there were a few and that was enough.

Hermione struck up an animated conversation with Roger Malone, a fellow muggle-born; Mandy Brocklehurst and Lisa Turpin on witches' empowerment; Lilian Moon and Sue Li on their experiences as a mixed race; and Padma Patil, on her ethnicity. Ron, meanwhile, was locked in a Quidditch argument with Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, and Terry Boot. Neville, Victor, and he were locked in a conversation about who is a greater wizard: Merlin or the Headmaster.

"I reckon it's the Professor Dumbledore, he's Supreme Mugwump, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, and Hogwarts Headmaster at the same time," pointed out Neville.

Victor countered, "But Merlin achieved great feats of magic, I just know he had time traveled because how would you explain his presence on the fifth century?"

A second-year Eddie Carmichael inserted himself into the conversation, "But that's just speculation. It isn't proven that he time traveled. For all we know, the scholars might have gotten everything mixed up. King Arthur was truly in the tenth century while Hogwarts was built during the fifth."

"Now, that sounds more like a conspiracy theory, Eddie. Hogwarts was built during the tenth century, there are documents in the Headmaster's office that could prove that," Cho Chang shot Eddie's outlandish story down.

"Well, why can't we just agree that they're both formidable and great on their own counts," Harry placated but that just fueled Victor and Neville's passionate discussion.

Gryffindors had Herbology with Hufflepuffs and this time around, Harry made a nice impression to the Hufflepuffs. Ernie Macmillan reminded him of a riff-off Percy Weasley, annoyingly pompous but not in a way that turns his back to his loyalties, unlike Percy. Harry reckoned that might be why Percy wasn't in Hufflepuff.

Neville was flourishing in this subject that even Professor Sprout was the Head of Hufflepuff, her favorite student might just be a Gryffindor. Neville was basking on the warm, supportive environment the Greenhouse and the Herbology class exude, he was even more confident now, talking to Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones without stuttering.

Hermione again found she could relate to the struggles of fellow muggle-borns Justin Finch-Fletchley and Kevin Entwhistle, Dean Thomas assenting affirmations along the way. Stephen Cornfoot and Isobel MacDougal sympathized with Ron, Lavender, Parvati, that pure-bloods they may be, they are also finding difficulties in learning. Seamus surprisingly hit it off with Wayne Hopkins as Megan Jones, Olive Rivers, Sally-Anne Perks, and Sophie Roper chattered animatedly.

Classes with Slytherins were the ones Harry dreaded. One because he got along quite well with the Badgers and the Ravens but he doesn't know how to approach the Snakes. Secondly, he really didn't want to antagonize anyone. The quartet arrived earlier – the other Gryffindors only a couple of minutes late – found Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass already seated while Professor McGonagall was engrossed writing in her parchment. Harry wanted to talk to them but he didn't know how.

Surprisingly, Hermione had felt the same and was the first one to attempt communication.

"Hello, can we sit here?" asked Hermione, nodding to the seats beside Daphne.

Daphne merely looked at them for a moment before deciding to nod.

"I'm Hermione Granger," introduced Hermione, holding out her hand. "The red-hair is Ronald Weasley, the chubby person is Neville Longbottom, and this is—"

"Harry Potter," whispered Tracey, to which Harry replied with a nod and smile. Daphne clasped Hermione's hand, shaking it. "Daphne Greengrass, and this is Tracey Davis."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Harry replied, and Ron grunted in affirmation. He knew Ron was still on the fence on making friends with Slytherins but he supposed this is progress. At that moment, the rest of the Slytherins filed in.

Draco's eyes immediately flew toward the direction of Harry's group. Pompously, his eyes narrowed as he sneered, "Going the Weasley and Longbottom route, are you Greengrass? Blood traitors consorting with a m—"

Before Harry can cut off Draco, Daphne already jumped to a reply.

"I suggest you clean your potty mouth, Malfoy," said Daphne coldly. "You don't want Professor McGonagall catch you with filth."

"Ooh, jumping to Granger's defense. I didn't know you'd allow a mudblood as a friend, Daphne," said Pansy, joining Draco in taunting the group. Theodore Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle snickered.

Apparently, Parvati and Lavender heard this statement and bristled, coming over to the growing faction. The Slytherins minus Tracey and Daphne have rallied behind Draco and Pansy.

Daphne replied coolly, "You know, Pansy, I was merely getting acquainted with Potter, Granger, Weasley, and Longbottom, but that's not such a bad idea. I'd rather have Granger as a friend than you, at least she has manners whereas you have none."

Pansy bristled at Daphne's barbs and attempted to attack Daphne but she was held back by Millicent Bulstrode and Aurora Runcorn.

Draco turned up his nose and sniffed, "I wonder what your father will say once they hear you've been socializing with the wrong sort, Greengrass. First, being friends with Davis who has muggle-born mother, then Granger, a muggle-born herself, then blood traitors."

Draco shot a venomous glare at Harry, Ron, and Neville. Daphne stood her ground.

"Oh, because that's where you're only good at. Tattling. Go ahead, tell my father, Draco. Feel free to do so, you arse-kisser! Besides, Bulstrode, Runcorn, and Zabini aren't even pure-bloods, but I don't see you complaining! But you go batshit crazy at Tracey? Kinda hypocrite of you, Malfoy.

"I pity you, truly. I bet you don't even have real friends because ever since you were a child, your father is all about 'this is what's good for you Draco, these are who you should be friends with', so really, your life was already determined before you can even say your own name. Was there a time in your life that it's your decision that was followed? Because the way I see it, your fine with other people deciding your life for you," spat Daphne, glaring at Draco with unrivaled heat.

Everyone was momentarily speechless, even Harry who was caught off-guard. He didn't really expect Daphne to trade verbal spar with the Slytherins but she was ruthless with her chosen words. Looking around, Neville's jaw hung open while Hermione's eyes were wide as she looked at Daphne. The Gryffindors were the same, and so were the other Slytherins.

Ron was appraising Daphne with a look on his face and Draco looked as if he got physically slapped. His already pale face whitened even more while Pansy glared at Daphne. It was this tableau that Professor McGonagall walked in on.

"Why are you all dilly-dallying instead of taking your seats? Sit down," chided Professor McGonagall, her voice breaking the atmosphere and roused them to move back to their seats. Draco was awfully quiet after that and considerably pliant while Pansy shot them one last glare.

After his last class, Harry went back to the dormitories – he wasn't confident that Hermione, Ron, and Neville would have memorized the way back – before going straight to Professor McGonagall's office. Harry knocked three times before he heard McGonagall replied, "Enter."

"Potter, what do I owe the honor of this visit?" asked Professor McGonagall in a stern, brisk voice.

"Er—I just want to ask Professor if you had anything of my parents. Anecdotes, stories, pictures, no matter how small," said Harry.

Professor McGonagall merely blinked.

Harry began to get nervous. "Hagrid said my parents were in Gryffindor, so I figured you'd be their Head of House as well, er—"

Professor McGonagall cut him off, her hands swiping something from her eyes, and in a heavy voice said, "Well – that's – I'm honored to share stories about your parents, Potter, and you're quite right that I am the Gryffindors' Head of House in their time, but frankly, we don't have that much time for a talk over tea.

"I do have pictures of them and their friends here," said Professor McGonagall as she opened her drawer and produced two moving photographs and handed them to Harry. Harry had never seen these particular photographs before.

"Your father and mother had wonderful friends," said Professor McGonagall steadily, albeit Harry knew that she was omitting particular information but he didn't blame her.

Harry took a closer look at the first photo and saw the spitting image of his father, James Potter, flanked by a handsome Sirius Black, a timid Remus Lupin, and shy Peter Pettigrew looking at James and Sirius with adoration. Frank Longbottom seemed to be with them, too.

They seemed to be fresh out of school, waving at the camera and the photograph was signed, "To Minnie, Merry Christmas! Bet you're glad we're out of your fur – get it? – but we know you miss us terribly. The Marauders plus One."

The second photograph showed five equally stunning ladies, they were dressed appropriately for a Sunday picnic. The dark red hair immediately captured Harry's eyes – Lily Evans – and at her side was a woman with slightly chubby cheeks that he recognized to be Neville's mother – Alice. There were two girls whom Harry recognized from the Order of the Phoenix photograph, the blonde Marlene McKinnon and brunette Dorcas Meadowes, and a dark-haired woman that Harry didn't recognize.

"Christmas, 1978

To Professor McGonagall,

Your Minxes send you their best. We terribly miss you.

Love,

Lily E., Alice F., Mary M., Marlene M., & Dorcas M."

Harry's eyes moistened as he watched the people in the photographs move, smiling without a single care in the world, not knowing their terrible fates. Among everyone, James, Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene, are the ones dead but it was equally heartbreaking to see Alice, Frank, and Sirius – two were tortured to insanity and one suffering ten years in Azkaban.

Peter Pettigrew's face drew anger from Harry, living a comfortable life under the Weasleys' care and under Hogwarts' protection. Remus Lupin and Mary Macdonald's whereabouts are unknown… but Harry reckoned he could send them letters and have Hedwig find them.

"I'm sorry to say those are the only ones in my possession, Potter," Professor McGonagall said after a moment.

Harry sniffed, looking at his Head of House and smiled, "It's alright, Professor."

"I can ask the other teachers if they have more and I'll get back to you, how does that sound?"

"Sounds great, Professor," exclaimed Harry. He never had the idea to sought out the teachers before, only relying on scraps of anecdotes they would willingly give to Harry.

"And you can try asking Professor Snape about your mother. It is to my knowledge that they were once the best of friends," said Professor McGonagall. Oh, it was more than just being friends to her, Professor, Harry thought as he remembered Snape's unrequited love.

As Harry moved to exit, Professor McGonagall called to him one last time, "Oh, and Potter? Please show that picture to Longbottom, too. I'm sure he'd be delighted to see a photograph of his parents. Alice Fawley—Longbottom was your godmother, you know."

"Of course. Thanks a lot, Professor!"