October 1991 to January 1992, 1st year
On Halloween, there was a small disturbance in Harry's life. It was the anniversary of his parents' death, but Harry had never met them, so he did not grieve their loss. He did, though, wonder absentmindedly what his life would have looked like, had his parents not died ten years ago. But it was no use thinking about things that could never be.
There was a feast that day and had Harry been a different person, he might have been angry about that. But as it was, he did not care. He was a bit annoyed by all the life bats flying over their heads, but the food was good and so he refrained from complaining. Not that he would have spoken his complaints aloud, anyway.
They hadn't even served pudding, yet, when Professor Quirrel came running into the Great Hall. Harry hadn't even noticed his absence from the feast.
"Troll!" he exclaimed. "In the dungeons. Thought you ought to know." And then he fainted.
Harry blinked.
All around him, chaos broke out.
"Why are they making such a fuss?" Harry asked.
"Because trolls are dangerous," Theodore replied.
"Yes, but if the troll's in the dungeon, how does that concern –"
There were a few loud cracks and the hall fell abruptly silent.
"Prefects," came the loud voice of the headmaster, who was standing at the Head Table with his wand raised high, "head your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
"What?" the girl with the bob shrieked. "There's a troll in the dungeons! Our dormitories are in the dungeons!"
But no one listened to her. Or rather, the prefects gave her an apologetic look, yet still ushered them out of the Great Hall and down the stairs. There was no troll.
Someone had sent the food from the feast to their common room and so the Slytherins resumed their meal as if nothing had happened and no one talked about the fact that the headmaster had just sent them to where a troll supposedly roamed the castle.
This was normal, one of the older students told the first-years eventually. The headmaster never thought the safety of his students through, certainly not the Slytherins'. They had had enough incidents over the years to prove that.
"This castle itself is a giant death trap," the older student said. "Although I suppose that is not the headmaster's fault."
The girl with the bob and the blonde boy made some indignant remarks and that was how Harry's day ended. What a dramatic evening.
The next day, for once, the rumours did not mention Harry even once. Harry was quite pleased with that. All the students could talk about was the troll, Professor Quirrel and the little Gryffindor that got severely hurt. Harry only later realized that 'the little Gryffindor' was the bushy-haired girl. Not that it made a difference. She would live.
Life went on.
In November, Harry gained a new acquaintance.
He was in the library with Theodore – where else would they be? – studying advanced potions and potion brewing, because he had by now grown bored of that class, too, but the subject still held his interest.
"Excuse me," a polite voice said and Harry looked up to see a girl with strawberry blonde hair standing in front of their table.
Harry had seen her before. A Hufflepuff from his year.
The girl fidgeted. "I – Well, I couldn't help but notice what you were reading and I –" She held up a book that Harry noticed was a copy of the same one he was currently writing notes about. "Would you mind if I joined you? And maybe asked some questions? Maybe you can help me with the more complicated things."
Harry took a moment to think about that. Then he shrugged. "As long as you are not a bother." He looked at Theodore and was surprised to see the barely veiled hostility in the other boys' eyes. "Theo?"
Theodore's eyes snapped to his and Harry was amazed to see how fast he got his expression under control. "If that is your decision, then I do not mind." His voice was neutral, but Harry knew what he had seen. Theodore did not like this.
It was too late, though. The girl had already sat down and it would be impolite to send her away, now.
Harry was further along in the book than the Hufflepuff girl was, but he was positively surprised that her questions did not bother him at all. She had a personal interest in potions and because Professor Snape was a rather … complicated teacher, she had decided to study at her own pace. Potions came easily to her. Her questions were intelligent and went deep into the matter and Harry rather enjoyed discussing the answers with her, posing his own ideas and listening to hers. He appreciated her genuine interest and intelligence and by the time it was time to go to dinner, the Hufflepuff had lost the nervosity she had displayed at the beginning and told him, in all honesty, that 'he really was nothing like the rumours'.
Theodore gave her a funny look, but Harry appreciated her honesty all the more. When she returned the next day, he even gave her a small smile and she returned it with a warmth he had not expected after just one day of knowing her. Theodore barely managed not to scowl.
The girl became a permanent addition to their library time from then on.
o
It said a lot about Harry's new reputation that his housemates politely asked him whether he would come to the Quidditch game and then did not drag him down like they did with the other people who hadn't planned on going. Apparently, the whole school attended the games. Theodore wasn't that lucky.
Quidditch was a sport and Harry didn't get sports. He also did not enjoy sitting down and watching them. He might have tried watching at least once, had he not already heard enough about it from his overly excited classmates to come to the conclusion that it was utter nonsense.
He spent the day exploring the castle on his own. So much magic in one place and he hadn't taken a closer look in all the time he had been here. The main reason had been the headache he would get for sure. He also didn't want to get distracted all the time. Getting distracted in the castle was dangerous.
But it was fascinating. He only had seven years at this school to examine all the spells and charms and enchantments that kept the castle running – to find out how the staircases moved, why some doors only opened under certain conditions, what gave the portraits sentience and the ability to move to other portraits … There was a lot to explore. And Harry thought that, maybe, if he tired of everything else in the school, at least he had the castle to keep his boredom at bay. It was a nice thought.
Theodore was very unhappy with Harry when he finally returned from the Quidditch match. His mood was in stark contrast to the rest of their house, because Slytherin had won the game.
Harry didn't want to talk about this. But Harry also didn't want Theodore to be mad at him. So he sighed and took Theodore by the arm (noted how the other boy took a sharp breath but did not pull away) and led them to one of the many, many abandoned rooms he had found. There were so many of them that Harry wondered how many students there must have been at one point for the school to need this many. There was no way they had all been in use at the same time.
"This is not about Quidditch, is it?"
"No."
Harry looked sternly at Theodore and Theodore looked steadily back until Harry gave in and asked, "Is it about the Hufflepuff?"
The corner of Theo's lips quirked up, just a little bit. "You still don't call her by her name."
"I don't know her name. She never said."
The almost-smile disappeared immediately. "So you would call her by her name if you knew."
"Yes. Although I'm not really bothered that I don't know."
And now Theodore was scowling.
Harry sighed. "Why do you dislike her that much?"
"Do I need a reason?"
"Yes. Or did I misjudge your personality that much?"
Harry had observed his friend for several months and he knew Theodore rather well, by now. To anyone else, there would have been no change in his expression. To Harry, it was obvious that Theodore felt rather hurt by his statement, that he disliked the very idea.
"Be honest with me, Theo. Why don't you like her?"
"She's – intruding – on our time. She –" He sighed. "You don't like people, Harry. I consider myself fortunate that you tolerate me. Why do you like her of all people?"
Harry blinked. "Are you – Are you jealous, Theo? What –?" Harry paused, took a breath, and then, "I don't tolerate you, Theo, I consider you my friend."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"And her?"
"She's on her way to become my friend."
"Okay." And then. "Harry?"
"Yes?"
"Her name is Susan Bones."
o
And Harry just had to smile at that.
"I had a thought," Susan said one day in December. "We are already studying ahead in potions and at the pace Harry is going, he will be finished with our whole curriculum before we even start our exams for first year. So why don't we start studying ahead in every subject?"
"Sure," Harry said.
"It is a good idea," Theodore said, though Harry knew it pained him to admit that.
"Perfect. We will all need to get to the same level first, though. I'm struggling with Transfiguration and I think no one except Granger ever pays attention in History of Magic. What about you?"
"Astronomy," Harry said. "Too tired to bother."
Theo's lips quirked up for a second, before he schooled his expression into something neutral. "I might not listen to Binns, but I am quite knowledgeable in our history."
Susan nodded. "And what subjects give you trouble?"
"Theo?" Harry asked.
Theodore sighed. "Herbology. But only the practical part."
"Really?" Susan said. "Hm. I think Professor Sprout might allow us to help her out in our free time, if we asked nicely. That could help you get more comfortable with handling the plants."
"No," Theodore said in a strangled voice. "No, thank you."
"What about Defence?" Harry interjected. "Quirrel isn't teaching us anything."
"That's a good point," Susan said. "I don't know what we should be learning in Defence, or what the upper years' curriculums look like, but maybe my aunt knows. She works for the Ministry, she could ask around."
"Is there no set curriculum?" Harry asked.
Susan shook her head. "Maybe, if the position was held by the same teacher every year, but the post of the Defence Professor is kind of jinxed. Not a single one has stayed longer than a year in decades."
"There's a new Defence Professor every year?" Harry asked incredulously. "How do they find so many people?"
Susan shrugged. "I imagine it's difficult. And since every teacher has a different style and there is no regulation … You are both staying for Christmas, right? If it's not too much trouble, you could compile some information and start devising a plan – a curriculum of our own, if you will."
Theodore looked at Harry.
"Sure," Harry said.
Susan gave him a fond smile. "Write to me, then I can add my own ideas. And if I don't hear from you on Christmas, I will be very cross with you."
"Can't have that," Harry said. "I will make sure Theo doesn't forget."
Susan laughed. "Or you could compose one together."
"Acceptable," Theodore said in his most neutral voice.
In the end, when the time came, Harry wrote the letter on his own and Theodore merely put his name next to his. Susan didn't seem to mind.
Harry had explicitly told them both that he did not do presents, but Susan cheerfully ignored that and when Theodore saw the three parcels at the end of Harry's bed, he wordlessly went to his trunk and retrieved a fourth one for him. Harry, naturally had purchased not a single item – both Susan and Theodore assured him they didn't mind – and was rather surprised to now have received four gifts.
Well, three gifts and a dismissive note from the Dursleys. He had written to them to confirm with Petunia that he was indeed staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas and Easter holidays and Petunia had kindly responded. They had even attached a fifty-pence piece. Very nice of them.
From Susan, Harry received a leather-bound notebook with a silver serpent on the front. From Theodore, he got a book titled An Introduction to the Dark Arts.
The fourth parcel contained a thin, smooth, silvery cloth that Harry soon discovered to be an Invisibility Cloak. The note accompanying the gift only told him that it had been his father's, who had left it in the possession of the anonymous sender. Harry was, of course, curious about that, but he had no means of identifying the sender with the note and its content being his only clues. But the cloak would surely prove to be useful at some point. Not right now, though. So the cloak disappeared into the endless void of his bag and Harry had soon forgotten all about it.
He spent a lovely Christmas with Theodore. They had a walk around the snowy grounds, did some light reading in the library and dinner was exquisite.
o
Harry stared at the huge, bearded man in front of him. The man beamed back.
The man had greeted Harry in the Entrance Hall – he had just emerged form the dungeons with Theodore to go to breakfast – and awkwardly introduced himself as Rubeus Hagrid. Harry didn't know what to do with him.
"I jus' – I wanted ter talk ter yeh," the huge man said. "Didn' get the chance ter, did I? Las' time I saw yeh, yeh were only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes."
Harry stared harder.
"Took yeh from the ruined house myself," the huge man continued rambling, "on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter yer family, yeh know?" He sniffed. "Good people, yer parents. Knew 'em, meself. Nicer people yeh couldn' find. Good people. Were in Gryffindor, yeh know? Wonder why the hat didn' put yeh in there as well. Are they treatin' yeh righ' in Slytherin? 's a bad house, tha' one. Not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."
There were a lot of interesting pieces of information in that, but also a lot of nonsense and Harry did not want to deal with this weepy man any longer. He was starting to get on Harry's nerves.
Besides, this wasn't the first time Harry had heard someone say there wasn't a single bad witch or wizard who hadn't been in Slytherin and that was simply not true. Harry had done his research.
Barty Crouch Junior, Death Eater and one of the torturers of Frank and Alice Longbottom, had been in Ravenclaw. Sirius Black, once a close friend of the Potters, mass murderer of no less than thirteen people – twelve Muggles and one wizard – had been in Gryffindor. Barely anyone noteworthy from Hufflepuff, interestingly enough – and there were a lot of books about people that had not been sorted into Slytherin and still turned out bad. Most of these authors emphasised the importance of acknowledging that not every Slytherin was evil and not every evil person was a Slytherin. Just because the Dark Lord Voldemort had been in Slytherin, the whole house was supposed to be in league with him? There was actually no proof of that, since no one knew who Lord Voldemort had been before. For all they knew, he might not even have attended Hogwarts. The Dark Lord Grindelwald hadn't attended Hogwarts.
The four houses of Hogwarts were not Brave, Nerdy, Useless and Evil. Three quarters of the magical population of Britain were not Gryffindors, yet that seemed to be the only house no one assigned any negative traits to – except for 'envious Slytherins', obviously.
Gryffindors could be brave and practical, but also blunt and stubborn. Ravenclaws could be intelligent and curious, but also condescending and arrogant. Hufflepuffs could be kind and fair and loyal, but also naïve and whiny. Slytherins could be ambitious and cunning, but also ruthless and selfish. They could also be none of those things, because they were sorted at age eleven and did not have to grow into the expectations others placed on them based on their Hogwarts House.
Harry looked up at the huge man, who was still rambling, and said, "I'm sorry, but my friend and I still have some homework we need to do and we were just on our way to the library, so …"
"Oh," the huge man said, disappointed. "Oh … Yeah, o' course. Don' want ter hold yeh up. Homework, very important. Righ' …" And then he lumbered off.
So that had been odd.
But then the other students returned from home and Susan with them and classes started again and everything was back to normal. The huge man didn't approach Harry and Harry put him from his mind.
AN
There is art for the trio (a bit older, though, because I just cannot draw little children):
something-rotten tumblr com/post/674456565147893760/the-trio-from-sticks-bones