Chapter 12

Edited

Their first class of the day was transfiguration with the Gryffindors. They made their way to McGonagall's class, letting themselves in when they saw there was no teacher and only a cat on the desk. Harry took a bowl of milk from behind his back along with a cat toy. He then opened his bag and pulled out a humongous bag of cat treats which he opened and poured into another metal dish, a scratching pole, and a small, animated mouse for it to play with. He placed all the items next to the cat with a small wink.

"Did you really have to do all that?" asked Draco when Harry returned to his seat at the back.

"Of course I did. I might surprise her with a life size model of Padfoot. Imagine the look on her face when she sees that." Harry whispered back, smiling innocently at the cat who was glaring at him. He turned to Rigel, who was to his left. "Rig, I'll let you use my wand for a day, if you do something for me." Harry said. Rigel had been asking him to let him use his wand for many days, to which he had declined every time. For Harry to let him use it must mean he was asking something big.

"Fine, but what is it?"

"It's simple. Take this collar," he gestured to a bright red collar with 'Minnie' written in gold letters, "and put it on the cat."

"Are you trying to get me killed? You know the cat is McGonagall," whispered Rigel furiously, "Why can't you have Draco do it?"

"Cos Draco's a pussy."

"Hey! I am not a pussy! Why don't you do it, Hadrian?" whisper shouted the Malfoy heir. Luckily, they hadn't been heard by the cat yet since they were at the back of the class.

"Yeah, Hadrian, why don't you do it?"

Harry could see he was trapped. "Fine, but Rigel, Draco, I'll get you back for this." He stood up and took the bright red collar to the cat. "Here Kitty, Kitty. I don't suppose you'll let me put this on." The cat's glare pierced the stone, and Harry moved forward tentatively. He clasped the collar around the cat, who made no move to stop him. After he had done so, he ran back to his seat and made no move to speak after that.

The first person to come in after all the Slytherins and a couple of Gryffindors was the bushy-haired girl, who looked at them with an upturned nose and sat at the front, with the rest of the lions coming in after a few minutes. 5 minutes after the class had started, McGonagall had supposedly not shown up. Thomas and Ron came bursting into the room, relieved when the saw McGonagall wasn't there.

"We're so lucky. Imagine McGonagall's face if she saw we were late." said Ron.

"I know! Let's sit down so it looks like we were here the whole time." They moved to sit down but the cat that was lapping at the milk and playing with the toy jumped off the desk, turning into McGonagall.

"May I ask why you were late?"

"We didn't wake up on time."

"Well, maybe I can transfigure one of you into a pocket watch. That way, at least one of you will be here on time. Also, 10 points to Slytherin for recognizing I was an animagus Mr. Potter. However, I think a detention might do you good tonight. Moving on, Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." She changed her desk into a pig and back again, showing the class the power of transfiguration. "I want you to transfigure this matchstick into a needle."

She waved her wand, levitating the needles to each member of the class. Harry simply spoke the incantation, waving his wand over the matchstick and it turned into a perfect needle. "Well done, Mr. Potter. That will be 10 points to Slytherin." Harry nodded, then continued to style his needle further, changing it to green with silver stripes and adding the Slytherin crest to the side. When he had finished, McGonagall was shocked. All that from a first-year student and on his first attempt. Regaining her composure, she stopped in front of his table. "Fabulous work Mr. Potter. Even your father did not do as well as this on his first attempt, despite the fact that he was a prodigy in transfiguration." Harry flinched inside at the mention of his father but did not let this show on his face.

However, he soon found a way to enjoy himself once more. "Professor," he began innocently, "why is that girl over there glaring at me? Did I do something wrong?" He was pointing at the resident know-it-all, Hermione Granger. She had wondered how he had done the transfiguration so quickly, especially when she had been studying non-stop since the day she had received her Hogwarts letter.

"You did not, Mr. Potter. Miss Granger, why are you glaring at Mr. Potter?" McGonagall was all too familiar with the gleam in Harry's eyes- she had seen it a few too many times in the eyes of the Marauders and the Weasley twins. Though she was not convinced by the innocent tone in his voice, she knew his complaint was completely valid.

Hermione, realising she had been caught, tried to stop glaring but found that she couldn't. "I wasn't, professor." Unknowingly to everyone in the room bar Rigel (as he had seen Harry's wand flick in Granger's direction), Harry had hexed her face to stay the same for the next few hours in the hope that she would learn a lesson about being more subtle.

"Miss Granger, stop glaring at me." When she noticed that Hermione was still glaring at her, she began to get fed up. "That will be 10 points from Gryffindor. If I have to tell you again, it will be 50 and a detention." Harry did feel a little bad, so he decided to lift the hex in the nick of time. He knew they had potions after this- Snape would love an excuse to take points. By the end of the lesson, all of Slytherin (bar Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson) had managed to turn their matchsticks into needles. Some Gryffindors had made little progress, and both Thomas and Weasley had failed utterly.

Content with himself, he left the classroom and made his way down to potions. The whole class had turned up on time for once, having heard tales of Snape's fury when students were late. They were called by a deep, harsh voice that protruded from the confines of the dark classroom. They made their way inside, the Slytherins and a few brave lions at the front, pairing up when Snape had told them to, his form still not visible in the room.

Suddenly, a door slammed startling all the Gryffindors and a few squeamish snakes. They had been told to expect this, but a few of them still flinched. As soon as the head of Slytherin House entered, he launched into a speech that sounded like he had rehearsed it many times in front of a mirror. He was positive it had been, especially when Draco had told him that he had seen a rough outline of it in a journal that Snape owned. "...fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." He finished his speech with a silent warning, all too clear to the people in the room.

This speech had led to mixed reactions, with some people looking disgusted at being taught by Snape (no doubt his father had told his brother tales of Snape's evil) whilst the Granger girl was on the edge of the seat, no doubt hoping to prove she wasn't a dunderhead. Like Snape would care- the man despised 99% of Gryffindors, and he could tell her attitude would not go down well with him. "Potter, Thomas. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Thomas simply shrugged and replying with the ever so eloquent, "I don't know."

"Let's try again, as fame clearly isn't everything. Where would I find a bezoar?" Harry could see Granger leaning in her seat, her hand waving about like a frantic 3-year-old. She knew the answer, no doubt about it, but anyone with a few brain cells to rub together could tell Snape was not going to choose her.

"I have no idea. Why are you asking me if I don't know?"

"That will be 5 points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter. Watch your tone. One last question. What is the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood?"

Thomas, having had enough, finally exploded. "Shut up Snivellus. I don't know! Why don't you ask Granger over there when she obviously knows the answer?"

Everyone knew he was screwed. You did not shout at Snape and get off easily. "You insolent brat. That will be 50 points from Gryffindor and a week of detention with Filch. If I hear you shout at me again, it will be 100 points and 2 weeks of detention." He whirled around to face Harry. "Let's see if both Potter twins are useless. Do you know the answers?"

"Of course, Professor. Adding powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood will make a sleeping draught so strong it has cashed the name of the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is found in the stomach of *cough* Dumbledore *cough*. I mean, a goat. And finally, there is no difference between wolfsbane and monkshood- they are the same plant, also known as aconite." The comment about Dumbledore brought laughter rippling through the room, apart from a few die-hard Dumbledore fans, who glared at him.

"That will be 10 points for each answer, Mr. Potter. Now, instructions are on the board. Begin." Snape had set them a simple potion to cure boils- one Harry had brewed many times before. He went around, complimenting the Slytherins and leaving a few competent lions alone. Just as he was showing everyone how perfectly Harry and Daphne (his partner) had stewed the horned slugs, there was a loud hissing in the room. Weasley and his brother had somehow managed to melt their cauldron- they were drenched in the incomplete potion which had caused boils to sprout everywhere. "Idiot boys- I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire. Both of you, to the hospital wing." He then rounded on Hermione and Seamus, who had been working next to them. "Why did you not tell them not to do it? Thought it would have made you look better, Granger? That will be 5 points from Gryffindor."

Harry leant towards Daphne, deeply amused. "I know that we shouldn't be enjoying this, but I am for some reason. It is nice to see my brother and his lackey get what they deserve." She gently snorted and giggled, her mind playing images of the 2 Gryffs dealing with Snape and his consistent insults year long. They carried on working and produced a perfect potion by the end of the lesson. Harry knew that his arse was better suited to teach potions than Snape- but he didn't care. The classes were amusing after all, and he had lessons from his grandmother who had a mastery in potions since she was a healer. He was sure he would do fine for his OWLs in the end.

On Thursday, Draco and Rigel both appeared in the great hall looking very embarrassed. Rigel had red hair, and hundreds of freckles, with a top saying 'The Newest Weasley'. Draco's robes had turned a bright pink, and his hair was now a bright orange. Harry simply smirked at them, reminding them how he promised to get them back. After breakfast, it was finally time for flying lessons. With the Gryffindors. And Rolanda Hooch. They made their way down to the Quidditch field, Harry determined to ignore Thomas Potter. "So, now that everyone's here. Stand by a broom, put your hand out and say 'UP.'"

Shouts of 'UP' were heard all around, with only a few people's broom's shooting up into their hands on the first try. These people were Harry, Thomas, Draco, and Rigel. The rest shot into their hands after a short time apart from Hermione and Parkinson, who were extremely nervous. Suddenly, Neville began to rise uncontrollably. He fell off the broom once it reached 10-20 feet with a loud "AHHHHHHH!"

Harry quickly cast an 'aressto momentum', slowing him down so he landed gently on his feet. However, he was still sent to the hospital wing, claiming that Pomfrey would have heal him off minor injuries and harry got 20 points for helping. When he had left, Thomas saw a golf ball lying across the floor- it must have fallen from Neville's pocket. "Anyone up for a game of catch? Unless you're too scared? How about you, brother? Chickening out?"

Thomas had directly challenged him, and he could not refuse that. "I accept, little brother." They both kicked off into the air, and Harry could see that Thomas was a decent flier. They both threw the ball ridiculously far from each other, attempting to make one of them drop it. The students below were watching with a mix of fascination and horror, with Hermione lecturing people on how dangerous it was. Thomas suddenly threw the ball to Harry's left. Harry dived down, chasing after it and plucked it from the air a centimeter from the ground before pulling up and coming to a stop in front of McGonagall. He was screwed.

Or so he thought. "Hello Professor. The weather is quite nice, isn't it."

"Follow me Mr. Potter." She had an excellent poker face, and she led him through the castle to the dungeons. They came to a stop in front of Snape's office door. "In, Mr. Potter."

"Hello Minerva. So nice of you to grace me with your presence. Mr. Potter, why are you here?"

"As loathed I am to admit it, Mr Potter here deserves a try-out. I saw him catch a golf ball after a 40-foot dive and he didn't even scratch himself." Harry instantly brightened.

"Interesting Minerva. But we all know that first-years aren't allowed to play."

"Um, you could talk to Albus to bend that rule."

"Indeed. And so it shall be, Minerva. See to it that Albus agrees." Harry went to the great hall, just in time for lunch. He was considered lucky to have survived that without a loss of points.

The next week, Harry went to the try-outs only to find out that no one was going for seeker (Terence Higgs had transferred to Ilvermorny). After that, the final team was Bletchley for keeper, Flint, Montague and Pucey as chasers, Derreck and Bole as beaters, and finally Harry as seeker. This was met with general excitement from his friends, especially Rigel and Draco who were the Quidditch fanatics in the group. He had gotten his broom and was returning from the try-outs when he was confronted by his brother and Weasley.

"That's a broomstick. You're done for this time, brother dearest."

Harry and his group of friends simply laughed, spotting Professor Flitwick coming down to see what the hubbub was. "Hello Professor." He said, ignoring Thomas. "Do you like my new broomstick?"

"Ah yes. Wonderful, Hadrian. You should be off."

"But Professor, it's not allowed."

"It is Thomas. The headmaster confirmed it. Be good now." By the end of that, Thomas was fuming. How dare Harry get a spot on the Quidditch team. He should have one- he was the boy-who-lived and obviously the best seeker in the world. He would go talk to Wood- clearly he would want to win and give him a spot on the team.

Before he went, he was mad about Harry showing him up, so he decided to beat him properly. "Know what? I challenge you to a duel, Hadrian."

Harry whirled around, just as he was about to leave. "I accept. Midnight in the trophy room. Rigel's my second- who's yours?"

"Ron." They both nodded and walked away. After dinner, Harry parlayed the information to Snape, who ensured that they would be in for a nasty surprise later that night.

The next day, both boys along with Granger (who had stupidly decided to follow them) were looking enraged. They had snuck out, only to be nearly caught by Filch. They then escaped into the third-floor corridor, where they had an interesting meeting with Fluffy. They then opened the door to find the looming figure of Filch in front of them. They had lost 100 points altogether and were in detention for the next week (it would have been 200 points and detention for a month, but Dumbledore had interfered.)

The next few weeks passed as planned, with all their lessons being either boring or amazing. Defense and History were a joke- Quirrell only stuttered and smelled of garlic, whilst Binns droned on and on about Goblin wars. Harry had been forced to pay attention in Quirrell's class since the teacher was alive but used History to study Defense as Binns did not care what anyone did. Charms was his favorite, with Flitwick being an amazing teacher and having shown them advanced concepts if they managed to complete the class work early.

In fact, the main problem Harry had been dealing with was Granger.

Flashback

Hermione Granger was annoyed. Very annoyed. She had been studying non-stop since she had gone to Hogwarts, and thought that because of it, she would be ahead in all her classes. After all, if her primary school was anything to go by, most children were quite lazy and did not practice schoolwork during the summer. This was somewhat the case- she was ahead of the year-mates in her house, along with most people in other houses. However, some of them were outclassing her, especially one Hadrian Potter.

He always knew the answers to every single question, and even gave responses that held information she did not know. He had to have been cheating- she had read all her books already, and the information was not even in them. How could he know it otherwise? If she could work out how he was doing it then she could finally be the best in her year.

She had finally found the chance to confront him on his own without his group of friends nearby. She sat down in the seat in front of him when he was in the library. "How are you doing it?" she asked.

"Doing what?"

"All the magic. There's no way you could be better than me. You must be cheating."

"Gringer, I am not cheating. Just because I am better at magic than you does not mean I am cheating. Have a good day." He made to stand up but was stopped by her hand. "What?!" he asked, feeling a headache coming forward.

"My name is Granger. I have been studying non-stop since I got my books. I have them memorized but you always know stuff that isn't in them. Tell me how."

"First of all, memorizing your books does not make you better than me. I have been doing magic all my life, so I am just more experienced. Secondly, why should I tell you? What is in it for me? And finally, just like how some people are born smarter than others, I could have just been born better than you." He smirked, stood up and left, leaving behind a fuming Hermione in his wake.

She was still convinced he was cheating.

End Flashback