2.0 - The First Day

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I'd be a woman, rich, and blonde, none of which I am. There will be a longer AN at the end. Enjoy~

This story is currently being crossposted from QQ to here.

"Wake up!" I heard Terry's voice shout in my ear.

"Aagh!" If anyone, especially Terry, claims I screamed like a little girl, he's a lying liar who lies.

Being the mature adult that I am, I punched him straight on the nose. Unfortunately, I wasn't wearing my glasses, so I hit his forehead instead. I vaguely saw him stagger back, rubbing his forehead.

"Oww, what the fuck! That hurt," he exclaimed as I finally found my glasses and promptly wore them.

"No shit, dumbass. It was meant to," I retorted.

He scowled. "For being so scrawny, you pack a punch."

Just a moment later, his expression went from scowling to a large smile, practically oozing happiness.

"We're gonna be learning magic today, baby!" he cheered.

I felt a pit form in my stomach. Yesterday really wasn't a dream, was it? I've had dreams like that before, where they felt so lifelike.

"Terry, do you mind if I freshen up first?" Unfortunately, my voice wasn't as stable as I wanted it to be.

"Er, sure, mate," he replied, this time with less exuberance.

I'd written off a lot of inconsistencies and changes previously as just a dream.

I quickly made my way to the bathroom. It was larger than I'd expected, with two shower-heads separated by privacy curtains, a toilet alongside a sink, and a relatively large mirror.

I stood in front of it for longer than I realized, just looking at myself. It really was real, my heart hammering in my chest. The face was in that awkward stage of looking like a teenager and an adult at the same time. Messy windswept black hair and green eyes.

Thankfully, they were a normal shade of green rather than whatever the "Killing Curse" green shite was talked about.

I sat on the toilet, pulled down my pants, and began to think - it really is the perfect place, the only thing missing is my phone - I snorted.

Yesterday, I'd not paid heed to the fact that I wasn't eleven. That alone is such a significant change after all. Instead of a butterfly flapping its wing, this is the equivalent of fucking Godzilla making earthquakes; expecting anything to stay the same is out of the question.

Some might think that I'm overreacting to a mere age change after all they've read that plenty of times in stories before.

To that, I say, "Were you the same person at age eleven and at age fifteen?" Most people's answer would be, "fuck no!" Then why would the people here be any different? Considering that this is now a real world with living, breathing people who have changed with an extra five years of life experience.

I sighed, washed and got off the toilet, I went and looked at myself in the mirror once again, as I traced the scar.

And to top all of that off, I wasn't a side character that can just not draw attention to himself. No, I had to be the main character, fate's bitch boy, Harry Fucking Potter.

"You look even uglier with that expression, dear," said the reflection of me in the mirror.

"Aagh! What the fuck!" was what a lying liar who lies would claim I shouted.

"Right, talking mirrors, fuck my life, why not?" I muttered.

Not only did I have to now deal with the likely eternal enmity of a powerful psychopathic dangerous wizard that was decades more older and experienced than me, I also had to deal with Albus "too-many-names" Dumbledore. Sometimes a misguided fool, sometimes a hilariously incompetent Dark Lord.

Something tells me that if either of him had to be real, I'll still be fucked. The "misguided fool" would try to keep throwing me at Voldemort hoping something inane love related bullshit would work and end him, the Dark Lord one would do the same, get rid of me, piss all over my grave and claim his "rightful respect and glory" for his version of the Greater Good.

I briefly contemplated taking the easy way out, but I knew I didn't have it in me to do that.

So what can I do? Well, I have fucking magic. An outsider's perspective and the urge to munchkin the fuck out of magic.

"-those horrendous bloody clothes, don't even get me started!" I stepped out of the mirror's way as my reflection left the mirror, the sound of it stopped.

You know what? I can get through this. The magic of this world while it wasn't properly described in the books, it must be more robust, right? If a simple and unremarkable wizard like Arthur Weasley can get a car to fly, why couldn't I make something more impressive?

After all, with the power of magic in the palm of my hands, who can really stop me? Well… many people for now. I can't be careless or rush into anything that I'm not prepared for.

First, after the classes that we'll have today will be to collect as much information as I can about the History of Magic and this society in general.

knock, knock*

"I know, I said to take your time, mate, but it's nearly been an hour."

"Sorry about that, Terry. I lost track of time. Just give me a minute." I quickly brushed my teeth, pulled on the robes - which, I now noted, were surprisingly soft - and left the bathroom.

"We're gonna be late," he grumbled.

Unlike me, who was having a crisis, he only took a couple of minutes and came back fully robed as well.

"Let's hurry down to the Common Room, Clearwater already came, they're waiting on us."

Ah, that's why he was so rushed. They couldn't exactly leave without us since it's the first day and we'd get hopelessly lost.

The both of us hurried down to the Common Room as the other first-years looked annoyed.

"It was my fault, I'm sorry." I didn't particularly like apologizing, but I didn't want Terry to catch the heat for something that I'd done.

"It's alright, Harry. Form a line, everyone. Try and memorize the way to the Great Hall, though we'll keep taking you there for a week," Penny said to me, a small kind smile on her face, it enunciated her light makeup and lipstick.

She was rather pretty. She had dark-blonde hair, her hair was wavy with light curls. I have to wonder if it was done with magic? I licked my lips, I really couldn't wait to see what magic could do, beyond what was shown in the original source material.

"She looked like she was about to slap me in anger, and she's all kind to you," Terry whispered in my ear, walking beside me.

I frowned. I remember that yesterday nearly everyone was talking shit about her. She definitely wanted something from me, there really wasn't any reason for her to be so kind otherwise.

I made sure to try to do my best to remember the path with the portraits. Only for one of them to walk out from his own to another's portrait so that's a waste.

The Marauder's Map, if it existed, was likely with the Twins. I doubt that without Ron being my friend I'd get it, though I could always try and steal it. With that in their hands, they will always be able to track me in the castle which meant I couldn't frequently visit the Room of Requirements, I certainly wouldn't want the redheads poking their nose there.

We arrived in the Great Hall. It wasn't as majestic as it was at night. The hall was larger than it was in the adaptation, and there were a lot more students; I'd say nearly a hundred per table, with Hufflepuff having double that.

All of us first-years took our seats at the end of the table. A couple of older years tried joining us but were sent off with just a glare by Penny; they immediately took a step back. She definitely wasn't as sweet as she was pretending to be.

"I'm so pumped to learn magic!" Terry exclaimed, as the others concurred in agreement.

While I had performed spells yesterday, I was excited to hear about it from the professors and their perspective on it.

"Yes, I can't wait to finally learn a spell," Michael said, a small smile on his lips. He'd been the quietest so far. It was a bit odd the way he looked at me, a mix of fear and awe.

Well, I'd seen that look in the eyes of almost everyone, but his fear was more apparent as often he'd refuse to meet my eyes. The only reason that I can think of is that he's a Death Eater's child; there certainly isn't another reason that I've shown to fear me.

One thing I did find odd, though.

"Didn't any of you try to perform spells on the train?" I questioned. I would have thought with everyone being fourteen rather than eleven, there might have been some differences in being taught magic earlier, especially since Corner is a Pureblood. All of us had introduced ourselves briefly to each other on our way to the Common Room yesterday.

I doubt that mastering four spells in eight hours was some noteworthy achievement. I remember that Hermione Granger as well had tried and succeeded in learning several spells. Speaking of her, I do remember seeing her yesterday while she was being sorted; she'd be quite pretty if she decided to actually try to take care of her appearance.

Padma frowned, "It's dangerous to try and learn spells alone, since something as simple as wrong pronunciation can result in the effect of the spell being different."

"I see, thanks for telling me, Padma," I said, giving her a smile.

"So, were you able to cast any spells, Harry?!" Terry exclaimed, shaking me lightly, to which I swatted his arm away.

If it really wasn't encouraged, I shouldn't tell them about it, but if I said that I had learned none, it would likely come off as suspicious.

"Oh, just the Wand Lighting Charm. I wasn't able to get anything else down," I said, acting to try and look dejected, which wasn't particularly difficult.

"That's quite the feat then, Mr. Potter!" exclaimed a voice behind me.

"Aagh!" If anyone, especially the first-year Ravenclaws, say that I shrieked like a little girl, then they are a lying bunch who lie all the time.

I quickly turned and looked. There was a short man, and I mean short; he was likely just a bit taller than my knees, and I wasn't particularly tall. He had the typical hair of a "mad-scientist" and was elderly, with wrinkles all over his face, though what stood out was his slightly pointed ears, similar to those of a Goblin.

"My apologies, Mr. Potter, I didn't mean to startle you," he said, his lips twitching lightly in amusement. He held a stack of papers, seven of which he gave to us; it was our schedules.

"Well, I can't wait to see you actually perform the spell," he said, a kind wizened smile on his face before he left to provide the schedule to the other students.

I looked at the schedule; it had Charms as the first class for us, then Transfiguration, then Potions, and ending with History of Magic, each one hour.

Just as Terry was about to grill me on what was likely to ask for further details, Penny walked over.

"It's time for your first class, follow me," she cheerily said, as she started to lead us to the long path to the Charms Classroom.

There really wasn't a way to describe the castle, the portraits walking to each other and interacting, other than magnificent, that is. There always seems to be natural lighting present everywhere, rather than what a castle lit by candles should look like.

She gave a smile to us, "Well, best of luck with your classes," she said, before leaving, she patted me on the back.

"She was a bitch to me," he grumbled as we entered the classroom and took the front seat. The classroom itself was ordinary; there was a blackboard, a podium, and a small elevated seat for the professor to sit on. It seems that we'll be sharing the class with the Gryffindors, which wasn't something I wanted. I didn't want to stay anywhere near the main cast.

Thinking of the main cast reminded me of the fact that Voldemort was fucking here, right now, in this castle, and that he could mind control, kill me, or torture me until my mind breaks, and I couldn't do anything about it. Oh, and that there is a massive "fuck you" snake with the ability to kill with a gaze in a chamber below the school that he should be well aware of.

I should've just fucking run off.

People like to pretend that the first two years of the school were less dangerous than the others, and they were fucking idiots. There was Voldemort casually fucking strutting around the castle every day, and second year, even the slightest wrong move can end up with HALF THE FUCKING CASTLE DEAD.

"Mr. Potter!" I heard the voice of the Professor exclaim, as Terry gave me a slight push.

"Er, here Professor. Sorry, was lost thinking of… er, magic," I said, sheepishly.

I really, really needed to get out of my own head.

"Your mother too was like that, lost in her own thoughts, and Merlin save those who interrupted her 'thinking time'," he reminisced, a sad sort-of amusement in his tone. After which he continued the roll call.

So he knew her then, I didn't feel an iota of a connection to Lily Potter. So, I made a sad expression for a bit, as Terry gave me a worried look, to which I gave a small weak smile.

I'm so, so, so glad that I'd been a drama student and had taken those acting classes. I had a really bad habit of laughing at inappropriate times, so I'd taken some acting classes to try and remedy it. I liked it and had continued for a while.

"Now, students! Charms is the art of causing an effect, be it on people or objects, without changing it, thus making it do something which it can't naturally do," Professor Flitwick explained. "Now, can anyone give me an example of such a Charm?"

A lot of the students raised their hands; I didn't. To me, it didn't particularly matter to answer the question. I'd be able to tell the answer if I was called on, and that's enough for me.

"You, Miss Granger," he said, pointing to none other than Hermione Granger, who, unlike her book counterpart, didn't have her hand shaking in excitement. Looking eager to answer, she instead looked bored.

"The Levitation Charm, Wingardium Leviosa, Professor," she answered succinctly.

"Good, a point to Gryffindor," he replied, a small smile on his face.

I raised my hand, to which he called on me. "By that definition, aren't most spells Charms, then? Why are some spells called Hexes, Jinxes, and Curses rather than just Charms?"

He snapped his fingers, looking excited; his hair seemed to get wilder. "Wonderful question, Mr. Potter! The answer to your question is that there is none." I furrowed my eyebrows together. "They are all merely Ministry Classifications rather than having any difference. Hexes Jinxes are harmless Charms and usually easily reversible, while Curses at least the Dark ones are not. You'll learn more about it in your Defense Class."

Huh, that was interesting. I'd love to know more. I wouldn't be purposefully drawing attention to myself in Quirells Class, lest Voldemort get too curious and start to enter my mind.

I needed to find a way to take care of his Horcruxes. As much as I'd like to close myself off from anything to do with the war, he wouldn't stop until he kills me.

Could the Killing Curse take care of a Horcrux?

"Now, today we'll be going over the theory of why wand movements and spell pronunciation have such a significant impact on a spell's final result." Just like that, my attention drew away from my thoughts as I started to jot down some notes.

On a side note, I really, really fucking hate quills.

My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. I ignored Terry's disappointment at not having performed a spell. To me, the theory was far more valuable for now.

I didn't have any innate magic; there wasn't any sort of 'core' present in the body of a wizard. Rather, wizards had a field around them that passively generated magic and released it into our surroundings through which spells were cast. The more magic an area has, the stronger and more effective the spells will be. But the downside was that the areas with more passive energy the spells will be more difficult to perform, as you wouldn't accidentally want to blind yourself after having improperly cast Lumos.

And that's where imagination, intent, and wand movement took place. While imagination and intent are necessary to perform the spell itself, which an incantation helps with, it's the wand movement which helps to regulate the strength of the spell. For a spell to be 'mastered,' the wizard in question should be able to regulate the strength of a spell without any wand movements.

Instead of waiting until 6th Year to learn Silent Casting, it'll be taught spell by spell, to get rid of the crutch that is the incantation and lessen the more complicated wand movements. Another change, which makes the wizards of this world far more competent.

Before I'd even noticed, we had arrived outside of the Transfiguration Classroom. Terry hadn't shut up for a single second on the way, and I was starting to get annoyed.

"Oh, will you shut up, Terry. You'll learn the bloody spell tomorrow," I said, clearly annoyed. Padma and Michael both chorused in agreement.

Seeing all of our annoyed expressions, he finally shut up as we entered the Transfiguration Classroom. The classroom was mostly empty as I had a habit of walking very fast when I was thinking about something; there was literally no one else.

The classroom itself was large, surrounded by large windows, with eight rows of three desks. Padma and I took a seat together, while Terry settled in beside us.

Padma and I got to know each other; her parents were here as Foreign Representatives from Magical India. I'd been to the country once; it was a pleasant experience with plenty of kind people, even if they stared a lot. So, I'd inquire more about the magical side. Apparently, both the Magical and Mundane sides were completely separated. In Britain, you could take a stroll in muggle London and be fine, but in India, that could mean jail time. The Indian Wizards had taken some territory, hid it, and simply stayed within their own bubble, rarely ever interacting with any other community, especially during the Colonial Period.

The History lesson was fascinating, really. Before I could ask for more information, the Professor arrived in her animagus form. Soon after that, many of the students started to trickle in, including the Slytherins. I looked over each of them; some met my eyes with fear being the most prominent emotion. There were a few hopeful gazes as well, while some didn't look at me at all. I saw who I think was Draco Malfoy, and he wasn't looking at me. Odd, hadn't he approached Harry in the source material to strike up a friendship, as horrible as the attempt was, of course.

Soon, the Professor jumped from the table, turning from her ordinary cat form to her human self. Was everyone in the wizarding world beyond pretty? I had seen every other person I had so far being as pretty as a model. Minerva McGonagall had black hair with just a few strands of gray hair that I could see, tied tightly in a bun. Her face was stern but had no wrinkles whatsoever, her impressive figure shown even while wearing the robes.

A part of me had to wonder if I could get something like Moody's eye. I squashed the growing horniness with the existential dread of probable death at the hands of psychopathic racist murderers.

"Transfiguration is the art of shifting and creation," each word of hers was carefully pronounced, giving just enough time to let the words sink in. She continued, "It is one of the - if not the most - complicated magical arts you'll be learning during your time at Hogwarts." With a slash of her hand, her desk transformed into a Lion, and a single flick later, back into a desk.

Her lips formed a thin line. "And, as impressive as Transfiguration is, a single wrong step or misinformation can result in dire consequences."

The class gasped, and I couldn't resist gasping as well at what she'd done.

To demonstrate this, she purposefully transfigured the desk into a pig. But unlike the Lion, which looked and felt alive, the pig still had wood inside of it, as it let off pitiful cries of pain.

She quickly reversed it, but held a solemn expression on her face, "I've personally witnessed this happen to many students, who have attempted to transfigure themselves or others whether in anger or in a childish duel. All of them have passed away now,"

She let us take that in for a moment, "Any of you, and I mean it, any of you, attempt to use Transfiguration on another person, I will have you barred from holding a wand or getting a magical education, no matter what your status is." She finished in a grave tone, her lips nowhere to be seen in sight.

That… was fair. I would still attempt Transfiguration on animals, I didn't mind that in the slightest, the internet in general had desensitized me to a lot of things, I would frequently look up gore on the internet to marvel at.

She flicked her wand and a chalk was animated writing everything on the board that she said, "Transfiguration is divided into mainly two schools that you'll be learning at your time at Hogwarts," Curiously it was writing precise notes rather copying it word for word verbatim, useful.

"Those are: Transformation - the main art of transforming one thing to another permanently or reversed by another. Conjuration: the art of creating something from nothing which depending on the skill of the caster can last anywhere from a minute to a year or more. There were a few noted individuals throughout history who have been able to extend the duration of a conjuration indefinitely; these were few and far between. There are more than just these two, but those are usually taught under apprenticeships."

"Honestly, she was a skilled teacher. Her every word drew attention and even before I knew it, the period had ended. We had gone over a lot of the history of Transfiguration and people who'd helped pioneer the art.

Everyone was quiet as we left the Transfiguration Classroom. Even Terry wasn't complaining about not having performed a spell. It made a bit of sense; it was their first time seeing such a sight. Even I was a bit shocked since I hadn't expected her to do that.

Su Li had the worst reaction to it; the small girl looked shocked for half the lesson.

"So, what class do we have next?" I said to break the silence.

"Potions, then we've got lunch, and then the rest of the day is free," Padma replied.

Clearwater had already told us the directions to take, but it still took us fifteen minutes to find the correct room. As a side note, Hogwarts has a ridiculously large amount of unused rooms. I wonder if I could take over one, make something of my own, a club, perhaps?

The wizards of this world definitely had a more developed system of magic. I still didn't know enough for my own liking; I wanted to fundamentally understand what a spell really is and find ways to munchkin the magic system. I'd be fighting with potentially a lot more competent wizards. I'd have to compete with the likes of Dumbledore and Voldemort by the end of three years at best, if everything stayed the same, which I didn't think it would.

Without Harry interfering, Quirrell wouldn't have ever been able to take the stone out of the Mirror of Erised.

Though what if it was Dumbledore's plan for me and Voldemort to meet? I can't stop him, not as I am now.

We entered the Potions Classroom, and it was as I'd expected, really. It was a large room with little lighting. On one side, there was a cabinet of all sorts of potion ingredients, each labeled in understandable and clear writing. There were desks and seats. On the top of the desks, there was-

Professor Snape wasn't here. My thoughts on him were complicated. I wouldn't judge him until I see what is to come.

I didn't want Potions to end up as a class I hate. The potential that they held was mind-boggling. The effect of the Liquid Luck alone was immeasurable in scope. To brew a Potion and have it bestow a concept on you? Healing Potions and their types alongside most others can likely be explained. But how can you explain literally bottling luck itself? Could I bottle life? Death? Time?

- Severus Snape -

He took a deep breath, and with a flick of his wand, the door slammed open, closing behind him on its own.

A strong impression helped to keep the entitled brats quiet, even if just for a bit.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving and silly incantations in this class; Potions is the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he said quietly, a charm on his voice making sure that the voice was spread equally throughout the classroom. "I can teach you to bewitch the mind, ensnare the senses. I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death. Well, if you aren't the usual dunderheads that I have to teach."

He looked around the class and met the eyes of each of his students. Some had their eyes wide in astonishment, some looked scared, some like Malfoy and Greengrass held a gleam of eagerness in their eyes. Though he knew that looking at the other students was just an excuse to look at one particular student: Harry Potter. With old practiced ease, he pushed down his boiling emotions.

The boy wasn't an exact replica of his father, though the resemblance was uncanny. At least this one tried to tame the hair. His features were softer than those of Potter, like those of her.

The boy, too, was looking at him straight, a gleam of hunger in his eyes, Lily's eyes.

Perhaps, he had some potential? Best to keep his expectations low; he is still Potter's spawn, as a sneer formed on his face.

He opened the attendance book and started to say aloud the name of all the entitled brats.

"Potter!" I snapped out of my train of thoughts as I glanced at where the voice came from, looking at Professor Snape.

The man… wasn't a pretty sight to say the least. He had pale skin, an actually crooked nose, and his hair looked like it hadn't been washed in years. The sneer that now was on his face didn't help either.

I grimaced; while I wasn't the most hygienic person out there, he just looked like a walking pile of diseases.

"Since some of us seem to not be paying attention, we shall have a quiz to test your current level," he said, his eyes gleaming with anger as I had to resist the urge to scowl at the man.

"Potter! What would I get if I added a powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" he barked as I had to grit my teeth to not yell at him. I don't know why, but this pathetic man got on my nerves. Perhaps it was because of how I knew he was a Death Eater, even if a "reformed" one. Fuck the hundreds he probably killed, right?

I took a deep breath. "Draught of The Living Death," I answered, looking at his crooked nose. I didn't want to look into his eyes. I believe that he can't use the spell without an Incantation, but the wizards of this world are more competent. I really should have thought more of mind defenses, but then again, it isn't as if I have yet had any free time whatsoever.

His sneer lessened. "Where would you find me a bezoar?" I wanted to be like one of those quippy protagonists and say the Apothecary, but I'd rather not have my time in this class be difficult.

"The stomach of a goat, sir," I replied, a bit calmer this time.

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

This time I was less confident. "None, sir." He looked at me for a moment, his lips pressed together. "A point to Ravenclaw."

He turned to the rest of the class. "Well? Why aren't all of you writing that down," he said, scowling as the noise of scratching of quills on parchment filled the room.

For the rest of the class, we were taught the basics of cutting, dicing, and stirring as well as following the measurements exactly to the book.

Snape was… bearable. He kept a watch over my shoulder the entire time, likely for me to mess something up, but I didn't.

Unfortunately, we didn't go through why everything worked, something I suppose I'll have to research on my own.

We were finally let off as I rubbed my wrist. I never liked cooking, and neither did Harry. While I won't enjoy the class, I would certainly be making use of many Potions.

I saw that Su Li did particularly well and was chopping like a natural. If she continues to show that level of proficiency when we actually brew, I will definitely have to try and get her to talk. I did not hear the girl speak at all other than when she had softly introduced herself.

I glanced at the girl. She was shorter than most of us; she had the "cute girl" vibe with her round cheeks, and her hair was cut short at shoulder-length.

"We're finally done," Terry said, stretching, yawning lightly.

"The classes did feel very long, especially Potions," added Corner, to which Padma agreed.

"Really? Felt like an hour to me at best," I said as we walked to the Great Hall for Lunch. We spent the rest of lunch in idle chit-chat, getting to know each other. Padma and I continued our talk on Magical India and other countries, while Corner and Goldstein explained to Terry what Quidditch was.

"Ugh, I'm going to go to the Common Room and relax for a bit before getting on with Homework," Goldstein said, getting up as Corner, Li, and Terry joined him.

I frowned. I'd love nothing more than to laze around, but there are three things stopping me from doing that: 1. Urge to bend magic over my knee and make it call me daddy, 2. Voldemort, 3. Dumbledore.

The first one is what I want; the other two I'll have to deal with as soon as possible, which unless I can manage the first point, then it'll take way too long.

"I'll take a look at the Library," I said, getting up.

It's time to start some actual research and unfortunately not the Jiraya kind.

Author's Note: I have become American today, for I now hold Freedom You can expect a lot more frequent updates. Unfortunately, the Hogwarts Library/Exposition will be in the next chapter. I was getting a bit burnt out after Transfiguration, and I think it shows.

Words (Pre-Disclaimer AN): Approximately 5300~ This has to be the longest thing I've written.

Oh, and please, please reply, the more you reply and interact the more I will write. Part of the reason why I actually started to continue this was because of the amazing replies, criticism and general vibe. So, make sure you watch the thread, like it, and follow.

- Spider-Lite