AN: I do not own Harry Potter or the Wizarding World Universe.
There's been a minor edit to the class schedule. I had it in my notes to fix it before posting, but there you have it. After reviewing all the information I had while later writing, the four class blocks I had before just doesn't make sense for one professor to take care of all the students. Math and a bit of poking around puts everything back to a more acceptable number of seven potential classes a day, with the younger students more focused in the morning and the older students in the afternoon. To that, there are forty-five minute classes, double anything is one hour and forty-five minutes, fifteen minutes to get through the castle, and there are a potential of seven periods in a day from 9am to 5pm when dinner begins. Apologizes for the incorrect information.
There is also the fact that these children are 11 and 12 year olds. One and a half to two hours is likely a stretch for any amount of attention span they might have.
Chapter 4
Avery, Pike went after Hannah Abbott. He was the first Slytherin. Bones, Susan, the brown-haired girl who stood beside Hannah, got sorted into Hufflepuff. Boot, Terry was the first Ravenclaw, followed by Harry's compartmentmate on the train, Brocklehurst, Mandy, who also went to Ravenclaw. Brown, Lavender became the first Gryffindor, much to the student's joy at that table.
Gryffindor seemed to cheer the loudest, followed by Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and then Ravenclaw. Harry wondered if it was because the Ravenclaws saw another Housemate as another person to compete with, and that was why they weren't as excited. Another oddity was that each table looked to have about the same number of students. He thought that Hufflepuff, being the cast-offs, might have the most students, but that didn't seem to be entirely accurate. The Muggle-born guide made it clear Gryffindor was the best House.
Some students sat under the Sorting Hat for mere seconds before a House was called out. Others took longer. Hopkins, Wayne took almost two minutes before the Hat shouted he was a Hufflepuff.
Harry knew the name they would use for him when the Deputy Headmistress passed over the Es for Evans. Malfoy, Draco became a Slytherin, and Moon, Florence became a Ravenclaw. Potter was right around the corner.
Harry understood why Mr. Flitwick told him to read Modern Magical History as one of the first books. Harry Potter was famous for defeating a Dark Wizard who was only referred to as He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who. The real Harry Potter, Harry Evans, was none of these things. He was glad Petunia forced him to hide his scar every morning with a thick cream.
His anxiety increased when he heard "Porter, Ellen" called. He almost missed that she was sorted into Gryffindor. If he was right, that meant there were nine so far for Gryffindor, twelve for Hufflepuff, nine for Ravenclaw, and ten for Slytherin.
"Potter, Harry."
It was like the entire Hall fell silent as her words echoed around the chamber. Then, little snatches of whispers erupted everywhere at once. "Potter? Did she say Potter?"
"Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?"
"Blimey, look at him; that must be the kid?"
Harry strode as confidently as he could through the hundreds of sets of eyes on him. He felt a little queasy at all the attention. The Deputy Headmistress had a strange look on her face as she looked at him. He sat on the stool and was thankful he only had to look at the sea of hundreds of faces for a moment before the Hat went over his eyes.
"Hmmm, interesting, very interesting," a soft voice said in his head.
Harry had no idea what would be interesting.
"Why, your mind. A powerful thirst for knowledge and understanding. A keen sense of what is right and wrong. A strong desire to prove yourself worthy," the voice answered.
"You're reading my mind?" Harry whispered.
"Yes, and more, but it is to discover what you are at your core," the Hat answered in a sing-song voice.
"Ravenclaw?" Harry thought.
"You have a keen mind, a desire to learn, but not the competitive spirit to thrive there… at least, not yet. You display qualities all of the Founders would have been happy to have, yet not one trait stands out from the others. Caution over Recklessness. A mix of lies and honesty. Strong self-preservation. Knowledge over Intuition, yet your awareness drives your decisions. You would do well in Slytherin; however, you would not thrive. Better be…" the Hat said into his mind before announcing loudly, "Hufflepuff!"
The Hufflepuff table exploded with cheers while others looked shocked. He thought he heard the Deputy Headmistress say something, but he couldn't make it out over the noise. Many clapped, but not all. Some just stared at Harry as he approached the House table.
"Welcome to Hufflepuff," an older student with dark hair and bright gray eyes greeted with a smile as he made room for Harry. On Harry's right was a pretty brown-haired witch with a complicated braid down the middle of her back.
"Welcome to Hufflepuff," several other students said with grins.
Harry tried to smile back, but he knew it probably looked like a grimace when someone said, "Don't worry, we aren't a lot of duffers like the other Houses claim. We're actually pretty great."
Harry just nodded. He was glad to be sorted somewhere, and while he would have loved to be in Ravenclaw with Mr. Flitwick, he supposed it wasn't meant to be from the way the Hat spoke. Not enough competitive spirit or something. Whatever that meant.
The rest of the ceremony continued after the Deputy Headmistress got everyone settled. Harry lost count of the students and who was sorted where, but he thought it looked about even between who was sorted into which House. Gryffindor or Ravenclaw might have had the fewest, but he was sure he was the last Hufflepuff.
"Now that we've concluded the Sorting Ceremony, I have but a few words. Tuck in!" the very old wizard with a long beard said from the center of the long table. Harry thought he must have been the Headmaster.
Food appeared on plates, and the silver goblets filled with an amber liquid. Harry blinked at the sheer amount of food. He looked around. Every table had the same amount. He looked at the others in his House and watched them put heaping portions on their plates from different serving trays on the table.
"Eat up; I know you must be hungry," the wizard who'd greeted him first said, gesturing to a pie with meat in it that was quickly disappearing onto other people's plates.
Harry ate carefully. He'd never seen so much food before. When no one was looking, Harry took a few of the rolls and hid them in his robes with cloth napkins just in case this was the only time they ate like this. He had some of his stolen food from the Dursleys in his trunk, but it might not be enough. This was a lot of food to give to so many students that he could imagine someone complaining about the budget like Vernon did.
The juice was good and wasn't anything he'd ever tried before. For some reason, it made him feel invigorated.
Several students tried to talk to him, but he just smiled, nodded, or shook his head at their questions. He caught a few strange looks between his new Housemates but hoped it wouldn't mean anything bad for him later. Sometimes, his classmates at his old school tried to talk to him, but he couldn't answer or didn't know how to. They thought he was stupid or deliberately trying to ignore them. It caused a few problems, and he didn't want the first day at Hogwarts to go badly.
The feast only lasted about an hour and a half before all the dishes were finished, and the last of the dessert disappeared into hungry mouths.
The Headmaster stood. "A few words before we go to bed. First-year students should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He looked at the Gryffindor table for longer than Harry thought necessary.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
He waved his hand, and the plates of food and goblets vanished. It was clear it was time to leave. Harry wished he could do that at the Dursleys because cleaning up all the dishes sometimes took just as long as cooking.
"First years with me," a tall, slightly overweight wizard with near-white hair said. "We'll be taking you to the common room. My name is Elliot Harper, and this is Miriam Hurst. We're sixth-year students and Prefects." The witch had short raven hair and a pretty smile. After a moment, he noticed the large P on their robes. When he looked down, he saw the same crest on his robes as the others and that his vest had turned a burnt yellow.
Harry followed the other thirteen first years. There were six boys and seven girls. They took a right out of the Great Hall and down a short flight of stairs. After two short corridors, a large, long chamber with many massive wooden barrels sat on their side; the faucet-looking things pointed toward the center of the room. Harry watched as Harper walked toward a large barrel most of the way into the room with two smaller, identical barrels on either side.
"In Hufflepuff, we tap on the barrels to the tune of the password. The current password is Helga Hufflepuff. You have three tries before a rather sticky vinegar is sprayed on you. Watch as I do it," he said as he first turned to the large barrel and started to knock on the heavy oak.
Harry realized it was a large door when the barrel lid swung inward. He followed along with the rest as they entered a short corridor that opened into a massive circular room with thick wooden beams overhead and live plants dangled down from the ceiling. A warm but not unpleasant breeze brushed his face as he looked around at the paintings, tapestries of students working together and studying, and rows of bright yellow and black banners with the ever-present badger symbol moving around the fabric excitedly.
Large, lit fireplaces had tables and chairs in front of them for students to gather. Most notably, the large dome overhead reminded him of the Great Hall. Once he was in the middle of the room, he thought the ceiling was lower than he initially guessed.
"There are boys and girls dormitories. The boys are on the right, behind the tapestry of a Badger jumping a fence, and the girls are behind the Badger playing in a field. Boys cannot go to the girl's side for any reason. You do not want to see what happens if you try.
Someone will come get you for your first classes in the morning, as tomorrow is Monday. We'll lead you to the Great Hall and someone will help you to your first classes. If you need assistance, almost all Hufflepuffs will assist you, but only if you ask," Prefect Hurst said with a smile.
"Professor Sprout is our Head of House, and you couldn't ask for a better witch and woman to lead us. Her door is always open to you at any time of the day or night. She can be cross with troublemakers, so please remember to follow the rules. What you do can hurt not only the House's chance at winning the Cup at the end of the term but also our reputation. Please keep that in mind," Prefect Harper said sharply.
"Now, I will lead you to your dormitory, and girls, Miriam will lead you to yours. These will be your dorm mates for the remainder of your time here, so please be respectful and polite to one another."
Harry followed Prefect Harper more because he was closest to him than any desire to lead the boys toward a tapestry on the right side of the large room. The Prefect slid the heavy cloth aside and marched on. Harry and the others quickly caught up.
The dormitory wasn't quite what Harry expected to see. There were six four-poster beds with yellow and black curtains. Also, there were walls between each bed and the next, with a shelf, dresser, mirror, and space for a trunk. It took him a moment to realize that a large curtain could be drawn across the entire space to block off the cubbyhole should someone wish. He thought it might be to change in privacy.
In the center of the room was a lowered area with six chairs, a circular table, and a lit chandelier from the ceiling that illuminated the room but not overly so.
"This is your dormitory. Your trunks are already here; if you want to switch beds, you are free to do so. I will come to collect you in the morning. Do not leave the Common Room at night. Should you need them, the bathrooms are down the corridor on the left. Each floor has its own bathroom, but mornings can be busy. There are showers, shampoo, and other stuff you might need on demand. Just let a Prefect know, and we'll get it to you. Have a good night, and welcome to Hogwarts," Prefect Harper said before walking away.
Harry looked at the others. A curly-haired boy with a strong jaw yawned. "Well, I'm going to bed."
By some unspoken agreement, they all separated and found their trunks and beds. Harry's was directly on the left side of the door. He saw some of his dorm mates flop on their beds with their robes and trainers on. Closing the outer curtain, Harry marveled at how quiet everything had become. A small candle blazed to life beside his bed, tucked against the wall.
Sleep did not come quickly. The bed was too soft and he felt uncomfortable in a new place. The total darkness helped, but it wasn't enough. He slipped out of bed with the heavy comforter and lay on the floor. It was cold, almost too cold, but thankfully the comforter helped. He wondered how he would look laying on the floor to the others. His gaze fell to the space under the bed.
The following day, Harry woke when an unfamiliar voice said loudly, "well, I guess he's already up," before the curtain closed again.
Harry waited before slipping out from under the bed and dressed in silence. He didn't know what books to take, so he only took a couple of them, along with his wand, in his messenger bag. It was another purchase Mr. Flitwick suggested so he could easily carry his school books between classes.
When Harry was ready, he realized the dormitory was empty. He slipped out and went to the bathroom but didn't take a shower or enter the large communal bath. A few older students were just talking as they soaped up.
In the Common Room, he saw his dormmates by the fire. It was considerably brighter in the large room, and he saw several paintings, sculptures, and even a trophy that he'd missed the night before. Older students headed out of the Common Room and likely up to breakfast. Without waiting, he slipped out with a few of the others.
"… double Potions again," the raven-haired witch sighed. "I hated having it on Monday and then having to do all the work before Wednesday.
"Can you believe Harry Potter is in our House? Did you see him last night? He was all quiet and stuff. Do you think all those things he did in those books affected his mind?" an older boy said.
Harry dropped back, not wanting to draw attention to himself.
"If those books were true, I thought he'd be in Gryffindor. Brave and stupid," someone else remarked.
"I didn't see a scar. Do you think someone else is called Harry Potter, and that's why he didn't want to speak up last night? Would be a little awkward," the first witch laughed.
"No, it's him. Cedric said he saw something covering the scar on his forehead. Probably didn't expect to be publicly exposed like that."
Harry listened as his Housemates discussed him. They didn't seem troubled or upset that Harry was in their House. If anything, they just thought it would be great fun to find out if the books written about him were true. They couldn't see how a shy, skinny kid with bent glasses could have beaten a banshee or rescued a princess.
Harry found a seat at the Hufflepuff table and ate quickly. He didn't want to stay long. However, it became clear that he wouldn't have that option. According to one of the older students, their Head of House hadn't shown up for breakfast yet. Harry waved to his dormmates when they appeared with the first-year girls. They seemed a little confused to see him there.
"I knew you got up early," the dark-haired boy with messy hair said as he sat down across from Harry. "Hopkins is the name, Wayne Hopkins," he smiled as he stuck out his hand.
Harry nodded and shook his hand. There was an awkward moment when Harry didn't speak.
"Of course, we know who you are," he laughed as he dropped his hand when Harry released it. "Do you… you know… talk?"
Harry shrugged and looked up at the table at the others. All of a sudden, he was the center of attention again. He wanted to leave but had no idea where to go or what classes he would have.
"Well… uhh… nice to meet you and all," Hopkins said before filling his plate.
Harry listened to the other first-years and older students talking to each other. For some reason, no one seemed to be in a rush. His dormmates were Justin Finch-Fletchley, Wayne Hopkins, Owen Cauldwell, Tobias Green, and Ernest Macmillan. The girls were Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Megan Jones, Daisy Harper, Leanne Longworth, Martha Gordon, and Bridget Lowe. Everyone seemed friendly enough, although Longworth and Gordon did not want to speak with each other.
His Housemates weren't the only ones who seemed interested in Harry. Several students from other Houses came to either stare at him or greet him. Harry shook their hand or waved but didn't speak, which made people more curious.
A large, short witch wearing a patched hat that couldn't keep her flyaway hair covered strode down the Hufflepuff table. She stopped and locked eyes with Harry before breathing a long, slow breath. She smiled and turned to the other Hufflepuffs, who seemed keen on whatever she had to say.
Harry realized this must be Professor Sprout, their Head of House. "Good morning, badgers," the smiling woman said as she seemed to take them in. "I have your class schedules. To my new students, welcome to Hogwarts and Hufflepuff. I apologize that I couldn't properly greet you last night, but something came up," she beamed.
"Now, let's see," she said as she waved her slightly bent brown wand. What looked like a few hundred parchments rose from nowhere and floated down to each student. Harry took his and started to read, but the Head of House distracted him.
"If you all would, please help the new students find their classes. We're having the inter-house cooking challenge again this year," she said to a few cheers. "I'll make a few more announcements tonight before bed. Now, everyone, get ready for their classes and link up with a partner if needed!"
Harry glanced down at the parchment. Classes started at nine o'clock each morning and ended at two in the afternoon. There was an hour for lunch and fifteen minutes to move from class to class. All the classes were forty-five minutes except for something called double Potions on Thursday morning from ten o'clock to noon. He tried to figure out why when he realized he had Astronomy from midnight to one in the morning on Wednesday evening with the Gryffindors.
"A word, Mr. Potter," a soft voice said as Harry got up to follow the other first years. He turned to see his Head of House. "Did you, perhaps, sleep elsewhere last night?" she asked quietly. Harry noticed the looks but didn't think anyone heard her. He quickly shook his head.
The Head of House frowned and looked him over. "You were in bed all night?"
Harry nodded. Well, he wasn't in the bed, but rather under it, but she didn't need to know that. He didn't leave his dormitory or the Common Room.
"Alright, please don't wander at night. The Castle can be dangerous at night, and it is also against the rules. Now, have a great morning and join the others," she instructed.
Harry did so and tried to ignore the looks he got. At least the Prefect took them back to the Common Room to get the books they would need for class.
Hogwarts was not only massive but also confusing. Stairs moved, doors hid behind tapestries, ghosts who walked in and out of walls stopped them, and the sheer number of portraits who talked made Harry nervous. Other students walked out of places he didn't expect. When the Head Girl Merriweather led the group past a door that locked itself when anyone was near it, he sighed. How was he supposed to get to class without a guide? Even rubbing his index finger wasn't helping him calm down.
Since being sorted, Harry had dreaded meeting Mr. Flitwick again. The tiny professor had been so helpful that he felt ashamed that he hadn't gotten into Ravenclaw.
The Charms classroom was on the third floor. It shocked Harry to learn there were seven floors, six main towers, and several other small towers. According to the Head Girl, there were also three levels to the dungeons. Inside the classroom, three rows of desks faced the teacher's table. A sizeable upholstered chair and several towering stacks of books dominated the back of the room. It was clear Mr. Flitwick loved books even if Harry hadn't seen and heard the joy in the tiny wizard's voice when they were at Flourish and Blotts.
A massive window let in the morning sun. Harry sat beside Finch-Fletchley and looked at the chalkboards on either side of the window. At first, he didn't see Mr. Flitwick, but then he realized the professor was standing on one of the piles of books with a large smile.
"Good morning!" he greeted.
The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first years were there. He counted five Gryffindor boys and seven girls. That made the class the smallest he'd ever been in, with only twenty-five students.
Harry would be behind his peers without reading Magical Theory and The Standard Book of Spells. As it was, he felt like he missed several things. Mr. Flitwick had them trying to levitate feathers in their first class.
"… it's Levi-O-sa, not levi-osaa," the bushy-haired Gryffindor said with her nose in the air about halfway through the practical part of the class. One of the Gryffindor boys had already exploded his feather somehow.
Harry had his wand out and tried whispering the incantation. His feather didn't do anything. He looked at the book again and tried to follow the instructions.
"I see you've managed some movement, Mr. Potter," Mr. Flitwick said with a smile. The class looked at him. Harry nodded and went back to practicing.
Towards the end of the class, Harry got out of his chair and approached the professor. Mr. Flitwick seemed to understand he wanted to talk, so the tiny wizard floated off his perch on the books and onto the table.
"Sorry, Mr. Flitwick," Harry whispered. "The Sorting Hat didn't think I had it to be a Ravenclaw."
"Not to worry, not to worry. You will do well in any House," the Charms professor grinned. "Also, it's Professor, not Mister."
"Sorry, Professor Flitwick."
The tiny wizard beamed and waved him back to his seat. The hushed conversation hadn't gone unnoticed, and Hopkins asked what Harry needed, which was so important. "Probably to get pointers," the brown-haired Gryffindor, who exploded his feather, snorted.
Harry didn't answer. He felt happy that the professor wasn't upset with him. Taking his wand up, he tried doing the Levitation Charm again.
They didn't have Astronomy that morning for some reason, but would the following week so it was a free period until eleven o'clock.
It turned out that Professor Sprout was their Herbology teacher as well. Harry felt foolish that he'd forgotten that. It was an interesting lesson that talked about Flitterblooms and Devil's Snare. Again, the Gryffindors were with them for the lesson. Thankfully, the professor didn't call on him.
Oddly, the tall Gryffindor with slightly chubby cheeks knew all the answers but didn't raise his hand to answer them like Hermione Granger did. Harry stood near Longbottom and listened closely.
Lunch was strange and, at the same time, welcome. The others in Hufflepuff talked a lot and seemed to ignore Harry. Some students from other Houses looked at him or tried to strike up a conversation, but Harry smiled and shook his head or nodded at the correct times. They eventually went away. He knew they all thought him weird, but like all the other boys and girls he'd gone to his old school with, they would eventually ignore him.
History of Magic was with the Slytherins, and it was a subject he'd enjoyed reading about. However, the professor was a ghost. The teacher droned on as if he were reading from the coursebook.
"Potter… my name is Draco Malfoy," a blonde boy with slicked-back hair greeted him with a smile that showed too many teeth.
Harry nodded and shook the offered hand.
"You know, it's rude not to answer back," the Slytherin sneered. A few of his Housemates snickered, and even a few Hufflepuffs nodded.
Harry nodded and waited for whatever the boy wanted to say.
They looked at each other for over a minute. Harry could tell the others were staring at them. Harry knew something was happening but didn't know what it was.
"You really are a Duffer," Malfoy snorted and looked at the other Hufflepuffs. "At least you found a House that best suits your…" he said before trailing off with a sneer.
Harry shrugged and waited. They stared at each other. Finally, Malfoy turned away as he muttered something Harry couldn't hear.
"Real winner, that one," Bones grunted. "Auntie doesn't like his father."
Harry nodded and went back to reading.
"Are you… like unable to talk?" Abbott asked a few minutes later. "Or, is it something else?" she whispered beside him.
"Yeah, like some curse?" another Hufflepuff asked. Harry thought it might have been Tobias Green.
He shook his head and continued to read. The professor seemed to be reading from a different book, likely one from when he died. Ghosts were strange. From what little he understood, their sense of time was not like someone who was alive. History of Magic had an entire section on ghosts, but it only touched on some broad topics.
"So, back to ignoring everyone? Alright," Bones snorted. "Auntie said this class was boring. She used it to catch up on sleep."
That evening, "The Duffer-Who-Lived" was a greeting he got from several Slytherins. Harry told himself that it didn't bother him. Words were precisely that: words. He rubbed his index finger in his robes.
Harry ate in silence and left as soon as he was done. He took a few rolls, stuffed in his messenger bag, back to his dormitory and continued to read as he'd done after his last class.
Transfiguration with the Slytherins on Tuesday was strange. Professor McGonagall, he finally learned her name, taught the complex magic of changing something into another. He was as behind as he feared. Having not even opened the book, Harry was lost from the moment the teacher opened her mouth to discuss the subject. Thankfully, she seemed content that everyone at least tried to change their matchstick into a needle. No one managed it. She gave them all a homework assignment, an essay of at least seven inches on their attempted transfiguration.
Harry's impression of the teacher was spot on when Malfoy tried to proclaim his brilliance in front of the class. The professor was… less than complimentary about his needle being made of wood. Malfoy was not at all amused that she disagreed with him. Most of the Hufflepuffs found it amusing but otherwise didn't engage with any of the Slytherins. There was a clear separation of Houses in the class.
Potions with the Ravenclaws was abysmal, more for Harry than anything else.
"Harry Potter… our newest celebrity," the greasy-haired, long-nosed, and sallow-skinned professor said as he greeted the class for the first time.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will 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 stop death... if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach," he continued with a sneer, his eyes never leaving Harry's face.
For his part, Harry looked at the professor's mouth. Everything about this man told Harry he was exactly like Vernon - a bully who liked to hurt people.
"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" the Potion's professor snapped.
Harry thought through the answer. He shrugged.
"Don't know? Sad… truly sad, Potter. Let's try again, shall we? Where, Potter, would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
"Goat's stomach," Harry thought but didn't answer. He paused as if to consider it and shrugged again.
"Fame clearly isn't everything," Professor Snape sneered and shook his head. He turned to the class. "You will pay attention and not be as empty-headed as this… celebrity is."
Anger.
Harry just kept silent and stared at the professor's mouth. Never look a bully or wild animal in the eyes; they might take it as a challenge.