Classes started as normal the next day, and the study group has stated that they wanted to schedule a convention thrice a week… Harry suggested at the end that it could be a study group. That meant that they could focus on general classes and improve in them as well. Plans were eventually made to include Slytherin, though those were only in his mind, since not many of the school really trusted them, and he really needed to drive the point home that bad apples come from every house, and not just Slytherin.

Harry thought he could wait for that, depending on what happened in school to show it.

Classes were… different to what he expected them to be. There was a marked difference in each teacher's approach. Harry listed them out mentally for cataloguing purposes.

First off, Herbology. Harry and Manny knew that Herbology was linked to Potions, and were thus happy to see that the portly, if affable Professor Pomona Sprout was rather competent, if a little biased to Hufflepuff… Then again, they expected that bias, since she was the Head of Hufflepuff here at Hogwarts. Neville shined at Herbology, which marked him as passionately peaceful. That said, neither soul in the body wanted to see a pissed off Neville, once he had more confidence in himself. The greenhouses outside were sweltering, but worth the swelter.

Charms. Professor Filius Flitwick, who was also the head of Ravenclaw was a rather playful person, even exaggerating the adulation that he wanted to give Harry, but that played into his class easily, seeing as it was the most technically difficult class outside of Transfiguration. Filius Flitwick was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. Harry appreciated the overreaction

Transfiguration. Technically the most demanding subject, it was taught by the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor, Minerva McGonagall. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross, for most but not him. Strict and clever, she gave them a stern warning the moment they sat down in her first class.

"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." Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. Most were very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. Harry's study group had already learned ALL spells in their first year curriculum, so they were rather eager, but not impressed.

After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only those in the study group- meaning Harry, Hermione and Neville had made any difference to their match (read: succeeded) ; Professor McGonagall showed the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and gave all of them a rare smile.

Astronomy. They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Professor Aurora Sinistra was, predictably, an expert. That said, she needed to get to know Normal astronomers- those in the non-magical world, for they had better equipment and more observations. Harry planned to anonymously send in the materials relevant, having references for basic physics and astronomy and being a rather good forger. He also made a mental note to get himself a new and powerful telescope from the non-magical side for next year.

History of Magic. Easily the most boring class, on top of being- ironically- the only one taught by a ghost. Cuthbert Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Harry and Manny resolved to do their advanced reading in this class, while also appropriating it for R&R or R&D, since it was easily the only class where 100% attendance was confirmed. They also noted the need to exorcise and rehire for the position

Defence Against the Dark Arts. The class everyone had really been looking forward to, but Quirinus Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone conjectured was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. Really, it was to hide the stench of death and decay- Harry's nose was too sensitive for that shit. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story.

Harry, of course, felt the specter possessing him, but was less concerned for now, given Voldie's weakened state. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins, who became well known to ALL first years as pranksters, insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Manny didn't think Voldemort appreciated that idea.

And before the classes was getting to them. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around as people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Harry was sure the coats of armor could walk, given the right enchantments. He was right to have taken the time to explore the castle the day before classes started.

The ghosts didn't help much, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them suddenly glided through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick and The Fat Friar were always happy to point new students in the right direction, but Peeves was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" Manny sorely wanted to exorcise him.

Even worse than Peeves, which was somehow possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry witnessed Ron Weasley manage to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found him trying to force his way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe the story that the poor redhead was lost, was sure he was trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock him in the dungeons when he was rescued by a passing Quirrell.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Harry empathized with him- knowing what it means to see something and know you couldn't have it. Didn't change the fact that Manny wanted to teach the man and cat some manners and grace.

Then there was Potions Day… which happened to be a Friday. And both Harry and Manny were ready to be civil with Severus Snape. While they sat at the Ravenclaw table with Neville, Susan, Hermione and Hannah for breakfast, ready to interact with the House of Blue, Harry's owl Hedwig, who had been free to do as she wished, flew in with a message for him. Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far at mailtime. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Harry,

I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

Harry, after discussing it with Neville, agreed, and decided to bring Neville and Susan with him. While he would bring Hannah and Hermione with him, overcrowding could be an issue. He smoothed the ruffled feathers by promising to take the two pouting girls next time.

He intimated the same to Hagrid. And then it was time for class. Potions lessons took place, dangerously, down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity." Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. One glare from Harry shut them up. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class.

His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but lacked Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. The difference lied in the method- where McGonagall radiated concern and firmness, Snape was just intimidating them.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is , I don't expect you to really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Neville exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked miffed at being called a dunderhead. Harry stared her down. Neville looked nervous beside him, and Manny took over a bit to calm him down. Snape tried using Legillimency on them, but Harry just showed Snape what he wanted. He then waited for it.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered asphodel to an infusion of wormwood!?" The man snapped.

"Depends. Do you mean absinthe wormwood, white wormwood, sweet wormwood, Roman wormwood, or common?" Manny asked, his tone barely changing.

Snape's sneer deepened before he tried again. "Where would I find a bezoar!?"

"Again, are you talking about a food bolus, which carries the archaic and more positive meaning; a pharmacobezoar, a mass of solid or semiliquid material that you usually find in a victim of overdosing on medication; trichobezoars, better known as hairballs…"

"Enough! Difference between monkshood and wolfsbane! Now!" Snape yelled, almost getting right in his face about it.

"Ok, first off, that's just rude. Second, they're both the same plant."

"Thirty points from Gryffindor for your impertinence, Potter!" Snape snapped, before skulking off to the front.

"Wow, who whizzed on your toast this morning?" Harry clapped right back.

"Forty points! And detention!" He swung his wand at the board, causing a potion recipe to appear. "You have two hours, get to work!"

"Wait, what?" Harry looked at him in near horror. "You just said potion making was an exact science and art...and you're wanting us to do it HERE!? If it's anything like chemistry, this room is a deathtrap!" They thought practical classes would be held in a lab on the ground floor

"Sit down and be-" Snape growled. Or to be exact, he tried, but Manny went right over him.

"No ventilation, the lighting is awful, cramped conditions begging for accidents, and to top it off, no safety gear for handling potentially toxic and dangerous materials, or to prevent cross-contamination!? Are you out of your damn mind!?" He then pointed right at Snape. "Who the hell gave you your teacher's license?"

No one had ever questioned Snape to his face. It just wasn't done, because Dumbledore trusted him. Harry and Manny showed as usual that they don't fear anything much anymore. If the tic mark on Snape's head was any indication, he was losing it. Neither wanted to blow the school up, so they had to do something. Unfortunately, Snape had to pull the Dumbledore card… which meant that Harry went to work under Snape's smug gaze… but the git didn't seem to realize that the Greengrass heiress, Daphne, was noting everything in her mind. Since her father sat on the Board of Governors, the concerns would be addressed… hopefully.

Smug didn't last long though. Harry had stealthily set up Crabbe's burner to spike up at the most inopportune moment in their brewing process… and the resulting explosion gloriously rattled the floor of the classroom. Of course class was let out early, but Daphne will remember this. Thankfully(?), there were no injuries, and Susan and Hannah were let out at the same time. So the group of five moved to the sunny grounds, and played about for an hour, being kids in general, something Harry wasn't allowed to feel. He liked it, though it was unfortunately unknown before then, mostly due to the Dursleys. At 11:30AM, the three moved to meet Hagrid, while Hermione and Hannah started to get to know each other

"Now, I'm going to act the naive kid with Hagrid- it's what he expects. Don't give me away, because I don't really trust Dumbledore, and Hagrid is rather… loyal to him," Harry warned before they split. The four nodded, understanding from the opening speech that Dumbledore was cunning, and that he wasn't to be trusted.

Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door. When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang — back." Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open. "Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang." He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. Harry noted the surprise on his face at seeing Susan and Neville.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it. "Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Neville and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked. "These are Neville and Susan," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Gotta say, I'm surprised yeh've gone and made friends with Neville and Susan 'ere… Figured yeh'dve come with tha' young Weasley- Ron, I reckon his name was!" Hagrid mused. That rang alarm bells with Manny.

"Rubeus- can I call you Rubeus?- I'm wondering if you know anything about how I ended up with the Dursleys?" Harry probed, indirectly disseminating information about his relatives to Susan, who was paying attention.

"Well, I s'pose you can, though I rather like bein' called Hagrid, reminds me of me da'… An' Dumbledore was the one who placed yeh there, o'course!" Hagrid cried out. "McGonagall was pretty miffed about tha', and after I came and picked yeh up for your tour of Diagon Alley, I can understand why, but Dumbledore knows best! In fact, I think I can say for certain tha' Dumbledore is really battin' for yeh, Harry"

Susan and Neville were shocked, but Harry only looked so. He had deduced Dumbles' plan for this year- and planned to get the Philosopher's Stone for himself- but the fanaticism Hagrid held was too much to be normal- It was expected that Dumbledore would have a stranglehold on Hagrid due to the loyalty he held, but neither soul could justify the levels for it being to this extent. Harry liked Hagrid well enough, but the man was basically indoctrinated. Harry didn't like what he was seeing.

So Manny changed the conversation, by picking up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet, aka the Daily Rag:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. "But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

Hagrid's natural disposition for laziness was enough to trigger alarm bells- it was clear that Dumbledore was waiting for him to play detective. 'Let's play the dumb kid!' "Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!" Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes as he grunted and offered him another rock cake. The cake itself was delicious- needed to be heated and dunked in tea, so that was that. But the way Hagrid avoided it was suspicious.

They spent the rest of the time commiserating on teacher trouble, and soon enough, it was time to go. It chimed 1 PM as they left, and so they joined the two left out and went to lunch. And at 5 PM, the study group, which had increased to include some Ravenclaws, especially the first years and second years, had been drawn out of their usual schedule to meet. And today was when the everybody would start learning third year spells- since Harry had teaching instincts and a sense for the practical side that was honestly scary for his age. He did always brush up on the theory as well- mostly for show. Perfect recall was always useful.

They had the info that the three had gathered disseminated amongst them in a matter of a few minutes. The Blue Ravens[1] made the deduction immediately, since they were that smart. The Red Griffins and Honey Badgers were much slower by comparison, but the conclusion was the same- the Hogwarts staff were grossly negligent- borderline abusive, really- in their actions and they needed to learn magical combat, if only to defend themselves. To this end, they decided that some seniors should join them to make things more comfortable for combat practice- AKA sparring.

Naturally Harry thought that the Weasley pranksters were perfect for it. He also decided that it was time to bring in the Metamorphmagus from Hufflepuff into his group- he needed to teach her how to stay balanced, given that he discovered his own balance issues last month, though he corrected it easily.

[1]- The animal comparison is a way Harry calls them, since he doesn't particularly see them keeping the Sorting system as anything more than a tradition in the future, He'd rather think that they're sorted by animal preference.

Well, a VERY belated Happy New Year to all my Readers! I hope y'all have a good one, especially since I'm on track to lose mine. ANYWAY, the inspiration struck me for this instead of Arifureta, so I hit it. BTW, MrWriterWriter and Tatsurou on AO3 are responsible for the class inbteraction with Snape, mostly since it matched the vibe I was going for. Changed how it ended tho, to keep to my flow.

Signing off for now,

Seiichi and his brand of Insanity are off to the Races!