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NathanHale2: From what I've outlined and written so far, I can say the pacing will get faster starting around chapter 6. The first couple of chapters are meant to establish the characters and dynamics that they have before showing the overarching plot. I hope that the writing and characters continue to hold a strong presence once the later chapters are ready.

-Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling and Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan is owned by Hajime Isayama. I own nothing.

Chapter 5: Teachings

"So, that's your choice then?" the voice of the Sorting Hat spoke within his mind. It almost sounded a bit impressively amused by all of it.

Yeah, I've made up my mind, Harry answered. Oh, by the way, you don't… tell anyone what goes on inside of student's heads, do you? He thought of what might happen if someone discovered this connection he had to Ymir. Hearing voices was considered a sign of madness by non-magic standards and they might put a spell on him to try and cure him of that. He probably sounded paranoid, but he wasn't willing to jeopardize his first genuine friendship.

"I am under strict oath from my creators, the four Hogwarts Founders, to not disclose any private information within the student's minds," the Sorting Hat put his worry to ease. "Whatever entity that I detected within your mind does not seem to bear you any ill intent - but do take caution all the same. But all manner of your personal information aside, the sorting must commence. As you said, there are other students I must place. Better be-,"

"Gryffindor!" the Sorting Hat shouted that final word loud enough for the entire Great Hall to hear.

The table with the scarlet and gold lions erupted into a wild frenzy of all manner of cheering and whooping and hollering. They had been the table that had loudly welcomed all newcomers before him, but Harry could tell that they were giving him the loudest cheer of them all.

Cries of, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" from two redheaded boys that were clearly twins and seemed close to actually dancing on the table if they got any more excited. The rest of the houses looked thoroughly dejected that they had been robbed of the chance to have The Harry Potter join them.

Harry did his best to try and give an almost sympathetic smile to some of the other students he had met thus far, including those currently seated over at the Slytherin table right now before walking over to the boisterous Gryffindor table and taking a seat next to Neville and some of the other first-year students near the front of the table.

No sooner had he taken his seat, he was being greeted like a long-lost friend or something. Everyone, even those sitting at the other end of the table, were coming over to shake his hand, to see him, to just be near him in some way.

A boy with dreadlocks with those two twins came over to animatedly shake his hand, telling him if he ever wanted to see a giant tarantula all he had to do was ask. Others were trying to speak with him as well, but their voices all seemed to blur into one indistinguishable noise. All Harry could really do was to nod his head in people's general direction and try to offer some greetings such as, "Uh, hi. It's nice to be-," "Hello. This is-," "I think the sorting is still going-,"

Many didn't appear to hear him and had to actually sit back down following a strict warning from McGonagall before she continued on listing off the names of the other students. And while other students did end up joining them over at the Gryffindor table, none of them received even a fraction of the applause that Harry had gotten.

'You know, for someone who said they really didn't want a lot of attention and drama, you might have picked the wrong house,' Ymir couldn't help but observe after that hectic welcome.

I just picked the one I figured I'd regret the least, Harry repeated the saying she had told him just moments ago.

'And do you regret it?' she almost sounded deadpan when asking that question. 'Why pick the house that is this loud?'

I guess a part of me figured it would be the safest pick.

'Eh? How so?'

Well, I was seriously considering Slytherin, Harry blatantly admitted. I have met some of the students over there already so I wouldn't have been completely alone if I was there.

'Why didn't you?' she asked. 'That probably would have been my choice.'

Maybe it was just seeing some of the other students sitting over there. They all looked so sullen and miserable, even like they were trying to intimidate other kids. Why would anyone want to go to a place that looks miserable?

'That Tracey girl and the Malfoy brat seemed pretty eager to go there,' she recalled. 'Although, anyplace away from that kid is probably a good choice.'

Well they had parents who came from there, didn't they? Their minds were already made up even before they came here, of course, that's where they wanted to be. But for me, I'll still talk to them if they're willing, but I'm not going to put myself there for years to come. Besides, it might have even stirred up more drama if I was over there.

'You mean other people would have thought you were just like what the rumors say about Slytherins?' she guessed.

Yeah. I wouldn't want that following me around. Besides, I might have even gotten rubbish from the Slytherins themselves for not being a pureblood and for supposedly taking down that Voldemort guy. If I'm here, maybe I can at least try to make friends with some of the ones who will hear me out.

She considered his reasoning. 'If that's the reason, do what you will.' It was hard to tell if she was impressed or not. 'Hufflepuff seemed like a pretty good option, too, just so you know.'

Well it's too late now, isn't it? Besides, I don't really like the yellow color.

'That's a childish reason.'

I'm eleven, and so are you.

The sorting concluded with Zambini, Blaise being sorted into Slytherin. McGonagall handed the Sorting Hat and stool to a rather sour-looking man to be removed from the hall as Headmaster Dumbledore rose from his seat to address the assembled student body.

"Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. They are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

"Huh?" 'Eh?' Those seemed to be the consensus for all the new arrivals who were unaccustomed to Dumbledore's eccentrics. Of course, any notion of questioning his sanity went out the window as the empty plates and bowls in front of them suddenly filled with foods of all kinds.

There was honeyed ham, mashed potatoes, steamed carrots, hot bread, turkey legs with gravy, shepherd's pie, and this just seemed to be the starting course. While Harry was no stranger to cooking big dinners (Christmas at the Dursley's was hell if one couldn't actually eat), but this could be the first time he would get to have a proper meal without having to give any of it up for anyone else.

Harry eagerly helped himself to some potatoes, bread, and chicken, taking sight of another first-year boy already stuffing his face from across the table - his plate already full.

I'm going to be full before dessert, Harry realized as he started to dive into his selected course.

'It might do you some good, you could use a little more meat on you,' she said to him as he ate.

Are you calling me scrawny? He playfully asked her, also very glad that their conversation was thought-based so he didn't take with his mouth full.

'I'm not calling you Dudley if that's any relief.'

Harry almost choked on his water as he drank from his goblet. He got some concerned looks from those around him, but he waved them off and signaled that the food was perfect.

"A bit exciting… isn't it?"

Harry looked up across the table to see Neville offering him a small wave. He waved back.

"A "bit" is a bit of an understatement," Harry offered back. "Are you happy to be in Gryffindor, then?" Harry thought that a table as rowdy as this one would have seemed an odd fit for someone like Neville to end up at. But then again, he was here too so he really couldn't judge.

"Relieved, really," Neville tried his best for a confident smile. "I'll have to write to my gran to let her know. I know that she'll be pleased."

"She'll be pleased?" Harry parrotted. "What about you? You want to be here, don't you?"

Neville's round face seemed to shift to uncertainty. "Well, um, I do - really! I just… didn't think I'd be here. The Sorting Hat really didn't help too much, so I just asked it to put me where it thought I would be happiest." He played with some of the peas and carrots on his plate.

"You did seem pretty surprised when it called out Gryffindor," Harry told him. "You were obviously pretty eager to get over here."

"Really just happy to stop having everyone staring at me," Neville bashfully admitted. "But I guess you can probably relate. You were up there longer than anyone else. Some of the people here were starting to say you might be undeclared."

"No, nothing like that. I'm still here, aren't I? The hat just said it was having trouble deciding where to put me, so I asked to choose myself."

Neville seemed utterly floored. "T-that was an option all this time?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess so."

"So… that means I could have just asked to be sorted here and the hat would have done it?" Neville's reminder of his previous embarrassment in front of the hall appeared to have surfaced.

"If it makes you feel better, the hat told me that most students do come in with some knowledge of where they want to be and it takes that into consideration," Harry informed. "So, chances are you still would have ended up here if this is where you really wanted to be."

"Oh… alright," Neville's redness seemed to recede a bit. As he went to take another bite of food, he was taken aback with a sudden yell. "Ah!"

A transparent head had just popped right out of the table right in front of his plate.

"Oh, hello!" the head greeted as it floated upward, followed by an entire body. "Sir Nicholas, at your services!" But it wasn't just him.

From the three other tables, apparitions started to float through the ceiling, walls, and floor. Sir Nicholas floated his way down the Gryffindor table, greeting the new arrivals and giving a yank of his head to show it was only connected by a thin strip of skin when someone referred to him as being "Nearly-Headless Nick."

'They're actual ghosts,' she sounded almost amazed by the fact.

You're not scared of them like you are of dogs?

'Ghosts are just echoes of the past. It can only hurt you if you let it.'

As Neville went back to eating, Harry looked up toward the head table where the headmaster and the professors were seated.

Headmaster Dumbledore seemed to have forgone traditional dinner and graduated right to the desserts. For someone who seemed so highly regarded, he seemed a bit off his rocker in certain areas. He spotted McGonagall to his right, enjoying her meal, but also sending the occasional glance around the hall - specifically to where the two twins were at the Gryffindor table. Next to her was a professor who seemed to be sitting in a heightened chair so that he could properly eat at the table due to his small stature. Then there was a woman who seemed no stranger to hard work and getting dirty if her attire was any indication.

Harry easily spotted the back of the purple turban of Professor Quirrell and then the man seated next to him. The man's black hair was long and greasy, his hooked nose and accompanying scowl did little to help his unpleasant appearance.

It wasn't until the man looked in Harry's direction that he could see the black of his eyes. Unlike Hagrid's beetle black iris', there was no warmth to be found staring back.

"Nngh!" Harry felt a sudden spike of pain centered right around his forehead. He moved a hand up to rub around where his scar was.

'Hey, are you alright?' her concerned voice asked.

...Yeah, he felt the pain vanish surprisingly fast. It felt like a flash headache or something.

The professor who had been staring intently in Harry's direction flickered his eyes over along the staff table, searching. He soon went back to his own meal.

After a bountiful array of desserts had been served to the entire hall, Dumbledore tapped his goblet and all noise effectively ceased.

"Now that we have all been watered and fed, I would like to take this time to go over some start-of-term announcements," Dumbledore began, sounding much more professional than his initial speech. "Firstly, Mr. Filch would like me to remind you all of the banned items, the full list of which may be found in his office. Secondly, first-year students are prohibited from having their own brooms. Third, the Forbidden Forest is strictly forbidden; as is the third-floor corridor to anyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Needless to say, there was a very uncomfortable silence that followed that statement.

'Didn't Hagrid say that Hogwarts was supposed to be one of the safest places?'

Yeah, well, when you're as big as Hagrid is, what can really hurt you?

'A cut to the back of the neck, maybe?' she offered.

I mean, maybe, but that was more of a rhetorical question. He guessed he got a better understanding of how her mind worked.

"Anyhow," Dumbledore continued. "I bid you all a welcome back to another year of knowledge and excitement. Prefects, will you please escort your houses to their common rooms."

With that clear dismissal, another redheaded boy at the Gryffindor table seemed to jump at the opportunity to get the students in order. "First-years, follow me, please!" he called so they could all hear him. The two twins were mouthing his every word from behind his back in perfect sync, clearly knowing exactly what he was going to say.

Following the prefect who made sure everyone could see his badge, he directed them out of the Great Hall and to the left where a grand staircase spread and branched off in a variety of different directions. But, as was fitting of a magic school, the sections of the staircase seemed to actually move on their own.

The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs went down the stairs to a lower section of the castle while the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors went upwards, but branched off in separate directions once they reached a certain floor. Even the paintings lining the sides of the walls had the figures within talking and offering up greetings. The painting that the Gryffindor students stopped at had a large woman with a bowl of fruit.

"Password?" she asked of the leading prefect.

"Caput Draconis," he said loud enough for everyone to hear him.

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hidden entrance that gave way to a comfortable looking common room with a message board, a roaring fireplace, and several overstuffed armchairs and couches. There were more portraits inside that all had moving figures as well.

"Welcome to the Gryffindor Common Room," the prefect stated. "Boys dormitories are to the left, girls are to the right. You'll find that your luggage and belongings have already been moved up. Any questions, please don't be afraid to ask."

The pair of red-headed twins filed into the common room with the other students. "Any questions, Perce?" one asked with a delightful smile on his face. The prefect seemed to regret his choice of words.

"Alright, is it true that you actually sleep with your badge on?" the one asked. "You seem to like looking at your reflection in it, so it makes sense you'd want to wake up to it."

"And is it true that you tried snogging it more than once?" the other twin asked. "Fred and I reckon that's how you clean it, but if you're in the mood to answer questions…"

The prefect's face turned a shade of red to rival his hair. "Since it is the first night, I recommend everyone get some rest for the day ahead!" he dodged the accusations thrown his way. "Your schedules will be given to you during breakfast tomorrow, so make sure you're up early!"

Taking that as a cue to disperse, Harry, along with the other first-year boys ascended a set of stairs to a landing where a door that read first-years waited for them.

There were five four-poster beds decorated crimson and gold along with their trunks and belongings which had been placed in front of each of the beds. The red-headed boy who had been eagerly stuffing his face back in the hall had laid down on his bed next to Harry's, clearly exhausted after the feast.

"So this is it? Us five." The Irish boy from the train said once all of them had claimed their beds. He came over to Harry and Neville to properly introduce himself. "My name's Seamus Finnegan, by the way." He shook both their hands in greeting. "I recognize you from the train. Of course, I hadn't any real idea you were you back then."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I was just trying to blend in, mostly. But I remember the two of you. You're Dean, right?" Harry asked the other Gryffindor.

"That's me, Dean Thomas." They shook hands as well. "We know who you are. And… you're Neville, aren't you?"

"Uh, yeah. Hello." Neville offered up a greeting.

"And that's Ron Weasley over there," Seamus pointed a thumb over at the red-headed boy. "Looks like his eyes were bigger than his stomach, huh mates?"

"Wonder what's… for breakfast… tomorrow," Ron said to no one in particular; his mind still lingering on the exquisite banquet Hogwarts had to offer. A pet rat crawled onto his bed.

"We talked a bit at dinner," Seamus went on. "He has a couple of brothers a few years ahead of us. The twins are Fred and George, and then his other brother is the prefect they were poking fun at down in the common room."

"Perfect Percy… that's what they call him," Ron offered up for reference.

"Right." Seamus nodded. "Anyway, what do you mates think our classes will be like? Me mum's a witch but things are probably different from when she went here."

"I couldn't really begin to say," Harry responded. "Frankly, I'm just curious to see what kinds of spells we'll be learning."

"Right," Dean agreed. "Although, you'd probably do really well in Defense Against the Dark Arts after the… well, you know."

Well, that didn't take too long to change topics.

"Who knows?" Harry said. "Maybe I'll get by on a fluke."

Seamus and Dean seemed confused by that.

"Er, what do you-?"

"We'll just have to see, that's all," Harry said, not wanting to have the conversation drift over to his "defeat" of Voldemort. "But if we're going to be at our best, we should probably get to rest before it gets too late. We can talk more at breakfast if you want."

Agreeing to that, the boys began to change into their sleepwear and got ready for the night ahead. Once he had changed, Harry pulled the curtains of his four-poster bed closed for privacy as he gave Hedwig some food before setting her cage on his nightstand. Once that was done, he laid back and relaxed, calling for his mental connection.

Are you still there? He simply asked.

'I am,' she answered.

So what's your impression so far? Harry got right down to it. Think I would have been better off somewhere else?

'Shouldn't I be asking you what your impressions are?' she playfully countered. You're the one going to school there. Besides, isn't it far too early to tell? So far your dorm mates seem nice. Don't you think?'

So far, yeah, Harry crossed his legs on the bed. Seamus seemed kinda thrilled when he realized who I was, and Dean sounded like he already thinks I'll be good at these spells we'll be learning.

'They don't seem too starstruck, that's good though.'

Harry couldn't deny that. It is. I kinda already have a feel of who Neville is. I don't know about Ron too much other than he likes to eat.

'Hm. He sounds very similar to someone I've heard about in that regard.'

A friend of yours?

'Not mine, no. She was a member of Paradis' military and had a voracious appetite. Apparently, she used to steal food and store it away for safekeeping in places only she knew. Potato Girl, that's the nickname she earned.'

What an odd nickname for someone to have. It did sound fitting for a glutton, and Harry briefly considered making some adaptation for someone like Dudley just as an inside joke for Ymir and himself. He could almost picture the girl she had been describing.

She would have been drooling from the side of her mouth, a crazed look in her eyes as she pulled out a slab of meat from where she had been hiding it. "No one will have to know," she said. "We'll all be able to eat it together after this."

She would have had a tangle of brown hair, maybe even cutting it shorter as she matured in her life. Brown eyes that could shine but held a keen sight to behold. Drool would escape from the corner of her mouth as her nose caught a whiff of something delicious.

All so vivid.

What happened to her? Harry felt the urge to ask.

'...She was shot,' her answer was solemn. 'It was when the conflict was still going on. She didn't make it.'

Oh. Harry felt that a little more than he felt he should. A pang in his heart felt amiss as he thought about a pain near his ribs. I'm, uh - I'm sorry about that.

'I'm sure that would mean a lot to those closest to her. What happened was sad, yes, but she also knew the risks as a soldier, even if that meant dying as young as she did.'

Do you think she regretted it? Becoming a soldier?

'Maybe. I guess she did have a relationship with a cook who was part of a group of volunteers from an enemy nation to help Paradis. But even if she did regret it, she still probably tried to live her life as best she could. Or so I would think.'

So, it's just like that saying that you told me, Harry recalled during the sorting.

'Yes, I suppose that it is.' There was a bit of a soothing silence that past between them.

Where'd you get that from? Harry decided to ask. Did you just make that up yourself, or something?

'I certainly didn't make it up,' she sounded matter-of-factly. 'And I got it from someone else.'

Oh, yeah. Who?

There was a very palpable pause. She seemed to mull, or even bask in the question to carefully think about and choose which would be the best to answer with. It seemed a miniature lifetime before she finally chose to speak again.

'My father.'

Oh. Harry believed this was the first time she had ever specifically mentioned one of her parents. He knew she wasn't an orphan like him, but it felt different to her to mention. Maybe she avoided the topic for his sake, not wanting him to be envious.

He uh, must be a very wise man, then, Harry settled on.

He could almost picture a smile on her face. 'I suppose so, but not always. He… I owe a lot to him - everything that I have, in fact.'

You really look up to him, then. They certainly sounded close.

'I have no reason not to. He showed me there isn't anything he wouldn't do to give me the best life possible. And there isn't anything I wouldn't do for him. All he needs is to ask.'

I'm impressed, Harry told her. He's probably very proud of you. But I'm not so sure he would approve of us talking like this.

'Eh? What do you mean?' she sounded genuinely confused.

Just, isn't it a thing for dads to be a bit overprotective? He's never met me before and here I am, a strange boy, talking to you when it's getting pretty late out. Plus, I am lying here in bed so someone could get the wrong idea and-,

'Stop it.' Her voice was a cold stone cut from the ocean.

What?

'If this is your idea of trying to be funny, stop it.'

Um… alright. I was just joking, jeez.

'Well don't!' she suddenly snapped.

I just-,

'Don't say something like that ever again! Not even as a joke! That's just… it's so… ugh! You wouldn't understand it! You wouldn't know.'

Know what? What it's like to actually have a parent that cares about you? Yeah, I guess I wouldn't. Harry communed to her but thought it sounded harsh the moment he thought it. She was clearly very upset about what he had implied and she made it quite clear she didn't want to talk about it. He had allowed a seed of jealousy to sprout.

H-hey, I'm sorry, alright.

There was silence between them. Harry feared he might have driven her away until he heard her invisible sigh, almost right next to the side of his four-poster.

'I know,' she said.

Look, I-,

'Goodnight, Harry.' He couldn't see her, but he knew she was gone after that. He had no dreams that night. Not one.

When the morning came around, Harry was starving for a bit of good news. His previous conversation with Ymir had been unpleasantly awkward which was the first time Harry recalled her ire being directed toward him. While she had made her distaste for his relatives quite known, he had never expected to be yelled at by her for his own ignorance.

It was more than clear to him now that the subject of her father was a cherished one and he had been out of line when trying to joke with her. He considered the possibility that her father might have been dead, maybe leaving her with the wealth she had now if her vague words about him were any indication. He felt bad if that was the case.

But what made him feel worse was how he had made her feel.

Harry thought that he had a good understanding of how Ymir thought due to their connection, but that was clearly not the case. She had been his first-ever friend, but one who had yet to set any real boundaries for the two of them to understand. Even friends could argue, couldn't they? Hopefully, they could just move past what was said last night and stay friends. Just friends.

"Trouble sleeping?" Seamus asked as they were the first to rise. "You look a little hung up."

"I slept soundlessly, actually," Harry told him. "Didn't have any dreams." Not one.

Seamus must have chalked it up to first night jitters as he just shrugged his shoulders as he began dressing in his school robes."You going down to breakfast, yeah?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah." Harry tied his shoes. "I'll probably see you all down there. I'm surprised this one isn't awake yet." He nudged his head over toward Ron's bed.

Seamus gave a little chuckle as he continued dressing, Harry already leaving to go downstairs.

By the time he made it to the Great Hall, many upper-year students were already seated and were eagerly beckoning him over to sit with them when they saw him enter.

"There, look!"

"Is that him?"

"Make room for him. He might sit next to us."

"Do you see his face?"

"Do you see his scar?"

He ignored their calls and walked toward the front of the table where a few other first-years were sitting. He recognized one semi-familiar face, one of the girls he had shared a boat with when crossing the lake along with an unfamiliar one.

"Excuse me," he said, breaking the conversation they were having. "Is anyone sitting here?"

They both instantly shook their heads. "No, no, please, join us! I'm Pavarti Patil. This is Lavender Brown."

"Thank you," Harry told her. "I recognized you from the boat."

Parvati turned to Lavender and the two almost squealed together. "Ohh! He remembers! I'll have to tell my sister Padma; she'll be pleased to hear he isn't some stuck-up snob."

Lavender seemed just as excited even though this was his first time meeting her. "What about the girls in our house, though? They'll want to hear, too. Parvati and I are thinking of organizing a first-year Gryffindor meet-and-greet, you'd come, won't you?"

"Uh…" Harry realized coming here might have been a huge mistake.

"Where would we have that, in the common room? That would be nice. We should do that the more I think about it. Do you think we could get…"

"Hey, Pavarti," Harry interjected loud enough so they could hear him. "What is that paper that you have?"

"Hm? Oh, this?" she handed it over to him. "It's the Daily Prophet, a popular paper from the Ministry of Magic. Care to read through?"

Accepting the offer, Harry turned to the page that had caught his eye, to begin with. The title of the article read:

Gringotts Break-In

Following reports of a high-security Gringotts vault being broken into, the goblins were pleased to report that nothing had been stolen. The vault in question, #713 had in fact been emptied that very same day.

713? That was the vault Hagrid and I went to. Harry realized. Looking over the article again, he saw a moving picture of a group of goblins outside of the emptied vault.

"Seems pretty popular to have moving pictures around here," Harry casually mentioned as he handed the paper back to Pavarti.

Both her and Lavender exchanged a confused look. "Well, of course. It's awfully boring to stare at pictures that don't move. You've had to have seen moving pictures before."

"Not until I got here," Harry informed, much to their surprise. "I've been living with muggle relatives. A lot of this stuff is pretty new to me."

The exchanged almost scandalous glances again. "That's... not what some of the stories we've heard have said."

Harry's expression shifted to more of a bemused look. "Well, that's the truth. Rumors are just rumors."

"We're not just talking about Sunday gossip," Lavender said. "Whole books have been published about your life outside of Hogwarts that claim to be fact."

"That's news to me," Harry should have been more shocked, but given how people knew his name it didn't seem too farfetched. "What kinds of stuff do they say?" Maybe that was the wrong question to ask.

"Well, there's the one about you inheriting a vast wealth of gold from a goblin mine."

"I've read one about him being next in line for the throne."

"Oh! What about the one where Dumbledore has secretly been training him all these years so he knows all sorts of advanced spells."

"Yes, I have heard of that one. Have you also heard about...?"

Harry was doing his best to zone them out at this point, the conversation long from a simple recognition.

Are you there? Harry desperately waited for an answer. I could use a little sanity right now.

It seemed an eternity before he heard, 'What's wrong?'

Oh, you're still here. Thank you.

'Of course, I am. Why wouldn't I? What's going… oh.' She caught the conversation that was taking place before him which was now on a topic he didn't bother even trying to follow. 'It seems you've met a couple of gossips.'

No kidding. Do I just continue to say nothing, because that's looking like a good option.

'That's up to you. But just for the reference, I don't want to listen to them either. You're company enough.'

The muscles in his face inclined up. Hey, uh, I'm sorry again for last night. I shouldn't have said that and I won't ask about your father if you don't want me to. He hoped that was good enough.

'Apology accepted.' That was a relief. 'But I'm also sorry to say that I can't help you escape this awkward situation, but maybe this will.'

"Here you are, Mr. Potter, Miss Patil, and Miss Brown," Professor McGonagall came over to where they sat at the table. She was levitating a stack of papers along in her wake. "Here is your class schedule. Do be sure to keep it on you or memorize it should it be misplaced." She went about to deliver the rest of the stack.

Seeing an opening, Harry took it. "Well, I should go and make sure I have all my stuff ready. Nice talking to you girls." He wondered if he could have possibly left the hall faster than he did before they could start talking again.

It wasn't until after he had left the Great Hall that he took the time to look over what he had written on his schedule. I did seem pretty basic. The classes he had for the whole semester consisted of Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Astronomy at night on Wednesday, History of Magic, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. A lot of other Gryffindors must have had a similar schedule along with the impairment of not knowing where any of these classes actually are.

He would later meet up with some of the other boys from the dorm when they come down for breakfast to discuss their classes for the day. In answer to the class location, apparently Dean had heard a first-year girl saying that she asked a prefect about where all the classes could be found since she didn't want to be late for anything. They made a note to just follow her until they got a good layout of the castle, or ask a ghost for directions if they got lost.

Astrology didn't really have much magic involved with it, it was more of mapping out star charts and figuring out what the planet movements said about the cosmos. Herbology proved to be more hands-on as well. Professor Sprout told them that first-years would mainly be tending to and caring for types of magical fungi and how to recognize and deal with more dangerous plant life such as Devil's Snare. It also seemed to be a subject that Neville seemed excited for. They shared their greenhouse with the Hufflepuffs as well.

Some of the Hufflepuffs he had met on the train recognized him and seemed quite eager to get to work alongside him in the greenhouse. Both Hannah and Susan warmly greeted him and introduced him to a boy their year named Earnie. They were certainly less loud than the Gryffindor crowd and Harry did admit to himself that Ymir was right when she said this house seemed a good fit.

Charms were certainly interesting. Professor Flitwick was so short that he needed a stack of books to stand on so he could speak to the class. When he was calling names for attendance, he gave a squeak and fell from his books when he got to Harry's. It was something that drew the attention away from Harry as the students laughed at their professor's antics. Perhaps Flitwick had heard the rumors that gangs of students had been roaming the school halls to try and watch Harry in class and decided to distract them instead.

If that was the case, Harry was certainly grateful.

"Alright now," Flitwick said as he finished roll-call. "Seeing as that we are all here, I'll pass out the syllabus for the class. Study it well and you'll find yourself prepared for what's to come."

Looking it over, Harry saw that Flitwick included some dates for tests as well as a list of spells that they would be covering. There was a levitation spell, a cutting spell, heating and cooling charms, and a few others that provided basic functions such as unlocking doors and other objects.

McGonagall's Transfiguration class seemed to be straightforward as well.

As a greeting, she changed herself to a cat and back which earned her impressed looks. Of course, she also sought to remind them they were here to learn. "I expect the best behavior from all of you. Any nonsense and you will find yourself out of my class. But stay diligent and one day you'll be able to perform feats such as this."

For example, she turned her desk into a pig before turning it back.

So I'll be able to create a pig one day, Harry also observed. If I ever want fresh bacon, I guess that could come in handy.

'Don't say it like that,' she chided. 'I happen to find piglets very cute.'

So you like pigs but scared of dogs? You are the weirdest girl I've ever met.

'No, I'm not because you haven't actually met me yet.'

McGonagall continued with her speech. "Of course, this is just a more advanced form of what transfiguration can accomplish. For now, you will focus on turning matches to needles after copying down the instructions. Ask questions if you are struggling."

Copying down the set of notes, the students were eager to try their hands at the spell. They were all struggling.

The Only one who had managed to perform the spell correctly was the one Gryffindor girl who they had all been following to their lessons. She had been earning their house the most points so far and this class was no exception.

Having little success with his wand, Harry got an idea.

He dropped his match on the floor and went to go pick it up, switching the phoenix wand for the jotun one which he had stored to poke out of his sock while covered by his pant leg. Olivander did say that it was handy for transfiguration and curses.

Trying again, he got it to change after two more times. He earned their house five points for it.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a class that many of them had been looking forward to, but any interest was quickly quelled when Professor Quirrell tried to stammer through the lessons.

"N-now, one o-of th-the most im-important th-things t-to k-keep in m-mind wh-when p-performing s-spells is t-to…" Needless to say, it made taking notes during his class very difficult.

It didn't help that there was always this weird stench of old garlic that clouded the room and Professor Quirrell's wake. It was enough to make Harry feel nauseous and leave him with sudden headaches whenever Quirrell passed by him.

But there did prove to be a class that was even worse to sit through - History of Magic.

It was the only subject taught by a ghost, Professor Binns. The story went that he fell asleep next to a fire and he continued teaching without realizing that he had died. And after listening to him drone on about goblin wars, Harry was sure Professor Binns could put himself to sleep with that voice. It didn't sound like they would learn about Merlin, or the Hogwarts Founders, or even any history of magic itself.

What made it worse was that Binns also occasionally dropped a few surprise quizzes every now and again, and Harry wasn't too confident that he would ace those.

And then there was Potions class.

It was taught down in the dungeons of the castle where the light was very scarce and the heat even more so. Taking a seat in the dungeon, Harry caught sight of some of the students he had met prior. He offered a small wave to those looking his way. Tracey turned her head but gave the smallest of smiles. Draco tried looking past him but gave a tiny nod of acknowledgment. The Gryffindors shared that class with the Slytherin students and was taught by their Head of House, Professor Snape, the one Harry had spotted during the feast.

When he entered the classroom full of jarred animals and liquids, he let it be well known that he demanded silence from his class as he began calling roll as Flitwick had done. And like Flitwick, he paused when he got to Harry's name.

"Aw, yes," his voice was soft. "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Harry felt an almost cold pang across his face as Snape went about continuing to read off the names.

"You are all here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," his voice sounded little more than a whisper, but they were hooked on his every word. It seemed Snape knew how to keep the class' attention, demanding that they pay attention. "There will be no foolish wand-waving unless absolutely necessary. I do not expect all of you to understand this practice. I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper to death - proving, of course, you aren't a batch of dunderheads that I've taught before."

There was an understandable silence that followed that little speech. Some looked ready to prove that they weren't dunderheads, Harry liking to think he was one of them. And then there were people like Neville who seemed chilled by their professor's introduction.

"Potter!" Snape suddenly called on him. "Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

The girl from Gryffindor raised her hand.

'Do you know that? You read the book, right?'

Not all of it. If he had known he was going to be quizzed like this, he would have made sure to memorize more than just the basic safety information.

"I don't know, sir," Harry admitted.

Snape seemed to sneer. "Tut, tut. It would seem fame isn't everything."

Harry felt a cold fist grab his stomach as he felt anger start to build.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find bezoar?"

The girl's hand extended farther up, but there was no need. Harry did see that in the text.

"Probably the stomach of a goat, sir."

Snape's sneer didn't recede, but his dark eyes held traces of surprise. "It appears your head isn't completely filled with sawdust. Very well. Perhaps you can tell me what's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

The hand of the Gryffindor girl could go no higher.

"I don't that, sir," Harry said which seemed to make Snape's sneer grow and it only served to stroke his bout of defiance. "But I know it would be a good idea to call on someone with their hand raised."

Snape's scowl flattened as his eyes became dark tunnels. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so strong it is called the Draught of Living Death. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant also known as aconite." He briefly tore his gaze to observe the rest of the staring class. "Well? Why aren't you all writing that down?" There was a scramble as everyone began writing. "And five points from Gryffindor for cheek."

Snape then had them pair up to start brewing a simple potion, leaving the directions written on a board behind his desk. Harry ended up with Neville as a partner and the other boy was clearly not strong when put under pressure. More than once, Harry had to stop him from adding an ingredient too early.

"We're just following directions," Harry said to him as he stirred. "You seemed to like Herbology, you know what some of these plants do."

"S-sorry," Neville stammered as he made very large cuts to one of the ingredients. "It's just… Professor Snape is-,"

"Chattering when you should be working diligently?" Snape's soft voice spoke behind them. His dark cloak billowed behind him as he stalked about the class. "You've already lost your house five points today, Potter, are you aiming for ten?"

"No, sir. I was just trying to help Neville with the-,"

"If you aim to help him, I suggest stopping him before he adds those quills while the fire is lit," Snape instructed as Harry quickly stopped Neville from adding the quills. "Two points from Gryffindor for not following directions."

Snape stalked his way back through the class, offering nothing but praise for their efforts - especially Draco whom he actually seemed to like.

This guy hates me, Harry thought as he turned off the burner so Neville could then add the quills.

'That seems a little much, don't you think?'

He called me out over everyone just to try and humiliate me. And then there was what he just said. He hates me.

'I mean, he's talking that way to all the Gryffindors, isn't he?'

Just about, Harry admitted. He's leaving the Slytherins alone, that's for sure. That still makes him biased.

'You're not entirely wrong,' she sounded that she had more to say.

I kinda feel that you're defending him in some way.

'I'm not defending his bias behavior, I just think that… maybe there's more to it.'

How?

'You remember that girl I told you about the other night?'

The one who was always eating? Yeah. What about her?

'She was part of a special operations squad,' she explained. 'The captain of that squad was a pretty intimidating man, said to be worth over a hundred soldiers all on his own. He came from poverty and disease so he wanted everyone to be on their best and always be alert and clean. He did berate his underlings in various ways - even physically if he had to. But all of it was so they would be ready. I can't say for sure if that's what Snape is really like, but it is something to think about.'

... I guess I can stay after this class and "apologize" for whatever it is I did to offend him so much.

'I don't think he'd accept it with that tone.'

By the end of class, Snape stalked about the room to observe their finished potions. He gave high praise to Draco, who looked quite pleased with himself. When he got over to the Gryffindor side, he made no attempt to hide his sneer.

"Dreadful," he told Seamus and Ron.

"What is that?" he frowned at Pavarti and Lavender.

"It meets expectation but is far from great," he said to Dean and the bushy-haired girl.

He got over to Harry and Neville and stared down with his hooked nose. "Barely passable."

Harry wanted to tell him that he and Neville had followed the instructions as they were written, but Snape had already moved on past them after vanishing the contents of their cauldron.

"I expect better by the time final exams arrive at the end of the school year," Snape walked back to the front of the class. "But then again, I know that is simply asking too much from certain individuals," Harry swore that Snape was looking right at him. "Go. You are dismissed."

The Gryffindor students made no attempt to quickly pack up and leave, sans Harry who took his time to put his scales and phials away. Some Slytherins like Daphne and Draco shot him curious glances as they filed out, probably figuring that he would have been the first to leave.

"Professor Snape," Harry said once the last student had left.

Snape looked up from his desk with a distrustful expression. "What is it, Potter? I've dismissed you from class."

"I know that, sir," Harry said, trying hard not to be bothered by Snape's attitude. "I just wanted to stay behind to - apologize."

Snape's tunnel-dark gaze bore into his vibrant green. "You wish to… apologize?"

"...Yes," Harry had to swallow back the pride he had, knowing he did nothing wrong. "I hadn't read through all of the coursebook, only parts of it. I didn't know we had to read it all before class. I'll just - try harder next time."

It was hard to pinpoint exactly what Snape was thinking. He seemed a mix of confused, yet borderline offended at the same time. The man's eyes never left his, perhaps trying to see into his very soul. The seemingly permanent scowl on his face didn't exactly help matters at all.

"Is that all you have to say, Potter?"

"I… don't know what else to apologize for." There really wasn't anything in the first place.

"Truly?" Snape narrowed his gaze. "You didn't stay behind with the intention of having me revoke my decision to take points from your house?"

Harry's own brow furrowed on instinct. "No, sir. I just-,"

"Just thought that having a famous name would land you a luxury seat throughout your time here at Hogwarts?" Snape cut him off. "I have seen plenty of entitled Gryffindors come through my class, Potter, don't think I can't spot the attitude when I see it."

"You've got it all wrong." Harry heard his voice rise just a little.

"Do I?" Snape questioned. "So your clear display of ignorance in my class today shouldn't have been corrected? I should let my students make potentially fatal mistakes while in this class? Don't be so arrogant as to not see your own shortcomings, Potter - life isn't fair and fame isn't everything. Now go before you waste more of either of our time."

"That's not-!" Harry wanted to argue.

"Go," Snape's cold tone was commanding. "I'll not write you a note if you're late for your next class. Run along."

Harry closed the potions door a bit more forcefully than necessary.

Do you still think he doesn't hate me? Harry took several large breaths as he meandered his way through the dungeons, trying to find the staircase up.

'You were right,' was all she said.

Yeah. I know. He walked back up.

'Do you wonder why?'

No real point in even asking him that, is there? I doubt I'd even get a word in before he tells me to leave. Agh! Was that captain of yours even that much of a prat to anyone?

'I'm sure that he was, but probably only to those who he felt deserved it.'

Whatever happened to him?

She pondered that question. 'He had an accident when securing a prisoner. He underestimated the man and ended up losing some of his fingers and got a nasty scar along his face from an explosion. Needless to say, he was never the same after that.'

Oh. He hadn't expected that. But a part of him wondered why it wasn't that surprising.

Back in the Potions classroom, Snape had yet to move from his desk to prepare for the next batch of students that would be showing up. His mind was clouded by a memory of the distant past.

His first-ever friend since childhood - Lily Evans.

Dumbledore had told him before the start of term that her son would be attending at long last. He had made a point to mention the eyes - of course, he did. There wasn't a trace of Lily to be found on that boy except for his eyes.

He hadn't been expecting the boy to stay behind like that, but it did present him the opportunity to study the boy closer. As he suspected, the boy did have a defiant streak inside of him. Snape could tell the boy had been very close to actually shouting at him back then - a very Lily trait to have. More often than once had he found himself on Lily's bad side, especially as they had drifted apart in later years. He had seen the fire that had burned behind her eyes - a righteous passion that was captivating to behind.

Snape hadn't expected to find fangs amongst that fire.

What set this boy's eyes apart from Lily's were the fangs that seemed to lurk just beneath the surface. A wolf about to lash out and strike for the kill.

That was not Lily. That was something else entirely, not even having to do with the man whom he despised most; James Potter. Snape knew just about every malicious look the elder Potter possessed, he had seen them all during his time as a student. And although his pride would never let him admit it, the look in the boy's eyes unnerved him to some degree.

What had agitated Snape was how those fangs seemed to obscure the fire within, willing to snuff it out if need be. It seemed entirely foreign to him. They might have been the same shade, but those would never have belonged to Lily. He doubted that they belonged to something that was even human.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Next chapter, Days go by as Harry finds his place in school, but a test gone wrong brings about some troubling answers. Chapter 6: Wrong Memories.