Reviews:

Pyromania101: It is good to be back! I hope that it keeps up in quality with previous stories. I wouldn't say cameos exactly, while they Harry will have some interactions with them, they will doubtfully be as a trio as I intend Harry's personality here to be much more driven and therefore not just be limited to just one group of friends as in canon. As for Ginny, I did have an idea for her involvement.

Mugetsu16: If you are only 2 chapters in, that's still very early (even with what I have published so far). Without spoilers, I can say that Ymir's involvement is a key plot point (chapter 6 begins to show this). I also don't intend for this to be a rehash of canon as I am having Harry's character be much more active and driven (his decision to show McGonagall his living conditions and subsequently getting the second bedroom earlier and buying two wands from Olivander in chapter 3 for example). His relationships with other students such as Malfoy and some of the other Slytherin's are going to be drastically different as well.

-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 6: Wrong Memories

The days following the botched apology with Snape found Harry settling into a routine of sorts. By now he had figured out the quickest ways to get to all of his classes, barring any secret passages that were not public knowledge, and knew what he had to do for each of them.

By following directions in Charms and Transfiguration, Harry found himself earning a few good points for his house from both professors. It helped that he also had two wands that each excelled in different fields. He did use the jotun one primarily for transfiguration and some minor curses when Quirrell allowed them to practice on wooden dummies for a few minutes at the end of his classes. Most of the students showed talent performing the spells when not restricted to his stuttering methods.

In McGonagall's class, she had been impressed by his quick pickup of her material and wanted him to focus on turning the needle back to its original match form, the same with a few other students who had gotten the spell down. Neville remained stuck the same as day one.

Small yellow sparks were coming from the end of his wand when he tried performing the spell, growing brighter as his despair worsened. The students sitting closest to them backed away in worry, not that Harry could blame them - he would too if he wasn't sitting right next to the boy in question.

"Everything okay with your wand, Neville?" Harry whispered over to him during class when McGonagall was over at another table instructing another student.

"My wand's fine!" Neville seemed oddly defensive.

"Sssh!" Harry shushed him. As much as he did enjoy McGonagall's class, he didn't want to be caught talking by her. He wasn't a Slytherin in Potions, he didn't get special treatment here.

"R-right, sorry," Neville's bashfulness won over. "It's just… this is my dad's old wand. My gran wanted me to have it when I came here to honor his memory."

"You didn't buy it?" Harry asked. Neville shook his head. "When I went to Olivander's, he told me that the wand chooses the wizard. Try using mine."

"But what will you-?" Neville stopped as he saw Harry pull out the phoenix wand from his bag and hand it over to Neville under the table. "You… you have two?!" he asked in shocked amazement.

"Yes, but try to keep it down," Harry scolded his classmate. "The rules weren't exactly clear if I can or not so don't go spreading this around."

"Is there a problem over here, Mr. Potter? Mr. Longbottom?"

McGonagall had spotted them chatting and was making her way over right now.

"Oh, uh, no, Professor McGonagall," Harry said as he hurriedly handed Neville the wand under the table. "I was just giving a few pointers, that's all."

She gave him a very scrutinizing look. "Then let us hope Mr. Longbottom is able to perform his spell with success."

Knowing that he was under pressure now, Neville tried again, this time with Harry's phoenix wand. He failed the first try, the same with the second. The feeling of McGonagall's stare didn't help his nerves one bit. It wasn't until his third try that the match transformed before their eyes into a needle.

Granted, it may have had a splinter sticking out of it, but it was still a needle.

McGonagall awarded Neville five points for overcoming the challenge and even awarded Harry two as well for helping a classmate. It was perhaps the first time that Neville had earned a point for Gryffindor in a class that wasn't Herbology.

"Thank you for letting me use that," Neville said for the third time after class had been dismissed.

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Harry said, also for the third time. "You seriously didn't go to Olivander's when you went to get your stuff?"

Neville shook his head. "Gran said my dad's wand was already from there and since I'm his son, it would work well for me."

"Maybe write to your grandmother to let her know you might want to look into one," Harry advised as they walked. "You can't keep using mine for stuff like the final exams. I can lend you Hedwig if you want to write to her."

Neville seemed bashfully dreadful. "Well… I guess I could. If it isn't too much of a hassle."

That would certainly give Neville something to look forward to, unlike a certain class that the entire student body seemed to despise as a whole regardless of year or house.

The History of Magic classroom was as boring as always. And in a castle where the stairs and paintings moved on their own, food just appeared on plates, teachers could turn into animals, and secret passageways that took you all over the school - a class had to actually try to be boring. And yet, Professor Binns did it with perfect ease.

"Please pass your homework to the student in the front row and bring it to my desk for grading," Professor Binns said in a perfect lackluster monotone. "Now, I need a volunteer to pass out a quiz I have prepared for today based on last week's lessons."

Even though there was silence, Harry knew just about every student was eternally groaning at hearing that bit of news. The only student who didn't seem deterred at all was that one bushy-haired Gryffindor girl who raised her hand in every class and earned them the most points in the year so far. She went up and collected the quiz and began passing it around as quickly as she could so she could take her seat to get started on it herself.

Harry really didn't know what her deal was. It wasn't like Professor Binns was going to acknowledge her for doing this - he didn't even seem to know he was dead! Besides, she had already proved she was smart to just about anyone who shared a class with her. Was she trying to get people to like her if they thought she was the smartest?

That seemed awfully dumb to Harry if that was the case.

When he got his paper, he banished those thoughts from his mind as he examined the parchment before him. Not one multiple choice question. Honestly, what had he been expecting from Binns?

'Oh, a surprise test?' he heard Ymir speak. She rarely came to him during this class, Harry figured she was just as bored as they all were. The biggest difference being that she could leave whenever she wanted.

A true joy on this day, Harry dryly replied as he looked at the first question asking what year Ragnar led his division against Mar the Nasty. He answered as best he could, his mind already feeling that it had turned to mush.

'I'll leave you to it, then. Good luck.'

No need to sound too happy, Harry gave a sigh that went unnoticed by everyone else.

Even without Binns droning on and on, the quiz seemed to go on for hours when in reality, twenty minutes had probably passed. Harry honestly felt himself stop trying to recall some of the answers and just put what he thought he heard or read from one of the lessons. His quill was basically moving on its own near the end.

Once they had finished, they passed their parchment to the front to be collected and Binns went back to his normal schedule of lecturing on about various goblin rebellions throughout the centuries. Hearing him talk almost made Harry wish for a second quiz to kill the time.

Almost.

And the only class that could rival History of Magic in terms of how much it was despised, Potions.

Snape made it abundantly clear who he favored and who he despised. Slytherin House had probably earned over 30 points in a single lesson. If he detected even a whiff of a mistake over on the Gryffindor side, he would deduct points for reasons known only to him.

One day, Seamus seemed to have accidentally set fire to his entire cauldron and had deducted a whole 15 points for that little slip-up. The bushy-haired girl had offered to help Seamus clean it up and offer points on where he had gone wrong only for Snape to take a point from her for "undermining his teaching."

He would stalk about the room reminiscent of an overgrown bat, observing them as they went about brewing their potion of the day.

"Potter!" Snape said. "How many times must I remind you to keep an eye on Longbottom?" he walked past them without so much as a backwards glance. "If it is your intention to fill this dungeon with toxic fumes - I suggest you make sure to keep it contained to the side who can benefit to learn from a fatal mistake."

That was one of the many snide comments he would make to them as he passed, never bothering to actually look.

In fact, Harry noticed less of Snape's darkened gaze ever since he had gone to apologize after their first Potions class. While Snape still never missed an opportunity to make a slide remark in Harry's direction, he often did so while facing away from him. He almost seemed to be avoiding looking Harry in the eye if he had the chance.

Harry had no idea what that was all about. Then again, he doubted if that actually mattered. Snape didn't really have to look at him to convey his displeasure. He had even taken to regularly asking questions about complex potions and ingredients as he had done on the first day and always calling on Harry first to answer those questions despite that girl putting her hand up.

Harry only knew a few of those answers after having read through his potions book again and discovering some of those questions weren't even in there as they were from subjects that they would only be covering in their later years at Hogwarts.

"I had almost begun to suspect better - clearly I was mistaken," Snape said after Harry had failed to answer what Felix Felicies does and how long it takes to properly brew. "And put your hand down, Miss Granger, if I wanted your answer I would have called on you."

When the class was over, Harry had no intention of staying behind as he had done on their first day there. As he waited to file out of the dank dungeon, he felt someone else brush up against him as they walked by.

"Watch it," Tracey said. He felt something slip into his hand before she grouped up with the rest of the Slytherins as they moved off in a pack, as was their standard.

Hanging back from the other Gryffindor students as they made their way out of the Hogwarts dungeons, Harry examined what had been slipped in his hand. It was a note.

If you want to become more acquainted with proper magical society, be in the dungeons after flying lessons on Wednesday.

-DM

It sure seemed that Malfoy wasn't about to jeopardize his reputation by openly associating himself with Harry. It was hard to tell what the Slytherin boys intentions were, if he meant for this to be a pleasant meet-and-greet, or if he had some ulterior motive.

'A letter from him?' she didn't sound thrilled at all, not that Harry was surprised.

Yeah, looks like it.

'Are you going?' The concern was evident in her tone. 'You've seen how he acts.'

I have, you're right. And while Malfoy might be - no, is a complete prat, he hasn't said or done anything to me.

'And you trust him to be civil enough for a conversation?'

If boasting can be called civil, I guess. If he had Tracey pass me this note, he'll probably have a few others with him like her. Maybe one of them can keep him grounded for a bit.

'Whoever manages to do that deserves true respect.'

That wouldn't be the only note Harry would get during the day. Hagrid sent him one as well asking if he would be interested in stopping by for tea during lunch one of these days. Accepting the offer, Harry excused himself from lunch the next day to walk the Hogwarts grounds where Hagrid's hut sat near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"'Ello there, Harry!" Hagrid greeted him wearing a stained apron over his usual clothes after he had knocked. "Come right on in."

While the hut did seem small due to some of the equipment Hagrid had lying around, it proved to have enough space for the small giant and a bloodhound as well.

The moment Harry sat down at the table, the dog came over and plopped his head down on his lap. The drool from his jowls staining his pants and part of his robe.

"Fang!" Hagrid called to his dog. "Be mindin' yer manners! We got a guest."

Fang gave an almost whimper before drooling some more on Harry's lap.

"Sorry 'bout him," Hagrid handed him a cup of tea and a burnt-looking pastry. "Big ruddy coward he is. But he's a great judge o' character he is. Him drooling jus' means he likes yeh."

"Uh… if you say so," Harry looked down at the drooling dog on his lap. Aside from those unpleasant memories of Aunt Marge's dogs, this was the first time Harry had been close to one that wasn't trying to rip him to shreds. He tentatively scratched behind Fang's ear. Fang continued to drool.

'Making a new friend, I see.'

Jealous?

'Of what? A dog? Is that what you think of me?'

No. I mean are you jealous of me moving past my bad experiences and petting him? Harry asked, implying his suspicion that she had a fear of animals.

'I've petted dogs, too, just so you know. They never drooled on me. Does that make you jealous?'

Harry chose not to answer that and sipped the tea Hagrid had given him.

"You're okay with living this close to the forest, Hagrid?" Harry asked him. Even during the day, the forest didn't seem all that inviting.

"Nothin' in tha' forest ever bothered me o' Fang," Hagrid proudly took a swig of tea. "Been going in there since I was a student here meself! Lot's o' creatures livin' out there, big hot spot for natural magic."

"How deep have you gone? Why is it forbidden to begin with if its right next to a school?"

"Well… been exploring a fair bit. Pacts of centaurs are friendly enough fer me, but never can really tell with them blokes. Then there's the nest of - yeh know, I shouldn't be sayin' tha'. Don't go 'round exploring in there. Some deep magic lurkin' somewhere in them woods."

They both drank their tea in silence.

"So how're yer classes goin' then?" Hagrid asked as he bit into what he called a "rock cake."

"They're pretty straightforward," Harry said, not bothering with his rock cake at all. He preferred his teeth in his mouth. "I was looking forward to Defense, but Quirrell can barely get through a lesson without jumping at his own shadow."

"Aye," Hagrid nodded. "Timid fellow he is. Had a real bad run-in with a vampire, I heard. Keeps that turban stuffed full o' garlic to keep 'em away."

Harry nodded. "I get a headache just about every class. Can't Dumbledore or someone put a spell on him so the students don't have to smell it?"

"Aw, I wouldn't worry too much 'bout it," Hagrid dismissed. "For years, Hogwarts has ne'er kept a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor for more'n a year."

"That makes it sound like the jobs jinxed," Harry noted.

"Tha's cus' it is," Hagrid didn't even deny. "A new bloke every year, gone before the next. Professor Quirrell'll probably stress himself too much and quit. Yeh know, Professor Snape's been wanting that job for ages."

"Oh, him," Harry dejectedly said.

"Mm?" Hagrid looked over at him. "Yeh don't like Professor Snape. Tha's fine. Lots o' students don't care fer him too much. Think he's bit o' a rogue meself, but Dumbledore trusts him."

"It isn't just that, he seems to hate me for no reason," Harry confessed.

"I'm sure he doesn't hate yeh," Hagrid tried to consolidate. "He's got his favorites, tha's for certain, not really too keen on anyone who ain't a Slytherin, but I don't think he'd hate yeh for no reason."

"But that's the thing," Harry continued. "I stayed behind after our first class to apologize for whatever I did to upset him and he basically just accused me of trying to win back points because of my fame, or something like that."

Hagrid seemed stumped to come up for a rebuttal for that one. "Well tha was very mature of yeh, Harry," he acknowledged. "Not many o' students would want to spend more time with him. I don't really know what ter think 'bout tha'. I know he and yer dad didn't get along too well back then, but tha's got nothin' to do with yeh."

"Snape knew my father?" Harry almost moved enough to get Fang to move his head.

'Eh?' Ymir seemed just as perplexed as he did.

"Well o' course he did," Hagrid finished off his rock cake. "Snape's got to only be 'bout thirty-one o' so. He went to Hogwarts and graduated with yeh dad. Started teaching here a few years after tha'. But, I doubt them muggles yeh was with told yeh anything 'bout anything."

Well that certainly put some things in context to the mystery. If Snape and his dad hated each other while they were in school together, was it possible for that hatred to have been passed to him?

"Do you know why they didn't get on?" Harry wanted to know.

Hagrid shrugged. "Jus' guesses. Snape's never been a cheery fella. Yer dad was always one fer pranks an' whatnot. Two different peoples they was. Maybe jus' a prank gone wrong somewhere 'long the lines."

Harry wanted to dismiss that. It would have been easy to do. But he remembered what Ymir had said about what had happened with her island, about how they were hated for something that had happened 2000 years ago. It might have been easy to ignore, but it was also easy for people to hate.

Harry thanked Hagrid for inviting him over for the tea and promised that he would visit again at a later date.

On Wednesday morning, the flock of owls that would swoop into the great hall appeared carrying the post for the intended students. Harry spotted the snowy white of Hedwig easily enough amongst the usual tawny brown of the barn owls. She passed by him and instead dropped a letter and package in front of Neville before dutifully flying around to perch herself next to Harry. She affectionately nipped at his finger and he rewarded her with a piece of breakfast jerky.

"It's a reply from my gran," Neville said to him as he began to read through it. "She says that my dad's wand really isn't suited to me, I'll have to ask McGonagall or Dumbledore permission to leave on one of the weekends, or wait until the holidays where I can go back to visit her."

"As strict as she is, I think McGonagall would give you permission," Harry told him. "She does just seem to want students to do their best so she has no reason to deny you that. What's inside the package?"

Unwrapping the small box, Neville pulled out a clear glass orb that seemed to be filled with some sort of clear smoke. Once all of Neville's fingers had wrapped around it, the clear smoke began taking on a more reddish hue.

"Oh look, Neville's got himself a Rememball!" Seamus spotted the small orb that Neville had clasped.

Neville nodded. "The smoke changes to red when you've forgotten something. The only problem is I can't remember what I've forgotten!"

"It'd probably be better if it gave you some sort of hint of what you don't remember," Harry offered, not seeing the use of it if the user couldn't remember anyway.

"Yeah, that'd probably be really helpful," Neville scratched his head, still drawing a blank on what he had forgotten. "Hey, um, Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Uh, since we have a flying lesson today, could you maybe… hold onto this for me?" he presented Harry the Rememball. "I'm clearly not the sharpest right now and I don't want to forget I have this and end up losing it."

"Sure, no problem," Harry agreed as he accepted the Rememball from Neville. The red smoke turned clear, but only for a brief second.

Once his fingers had fully clasped the orb, the smoke turned red once more. The red hue was darker than it had been for Neville. For Harry, it almost appeared a thick blood red or borderline dark violet.

"Blimey! I've never seen one do that." Seamus said in disbelieving awe.

"You're a Leo, right, Harry?" Parvati briefly broke her gossip with Lavender to watch the smoky ball in his grasp. "Witch Weekly's horoscope said that Leo's would be doomed to never remember the first time they got their haircut."

Harry wished he could forget what Aunt Petunia tried to do to his hair. Thankfully, it had all grown back quickly.

'Forgetting something.' She didn't bother to pose that as a question.

Apparently. But Neville said it best, I can't remember what I've forgotten. He tried to think. I know I got all my homework done. I just fed Hedwig. I… can't remember.

'Hm. I'm sure it will come to you. Memories and thoughts just don't disappear.'

Harry hoped she was right about that. He stashed the orb in his bag, remembering it for later. Of that, he was certain.

The first flying lesson was held outside the castle in one of the courtyards. Madam Hooch, their instructor had laid out two rows of brooms for the assembled students, Gryffindors and Slytherins. She observed them all with her fierce yellow eyes that would have fit a Hedwig, or even a hawk.

"Welcome to your first flying lesson," she addressed the first-years. "Now, while first-years are not permitted brooms, that doesn't mean that you have to rule out flying as a necessary skill. Stand next to a broom, raise your right above it and shout "up.""

Following her instructions, the cries of "up!" were being carried throughout the courtyard. Harry's broom flew right up to his hand after it hovered hesitantly above the ground in indecision. He saw Malfoy's broom fly to his hand with similar ease. Others like Neville the bushy-haired girl with the name Granger, and a Slytherin girl had a much harder time, eventually just opting to bend and pick it up when they thought no one was looking.

"Now that you all have your brooms, I want you to mount them," Madam Hooch instructed. They all did so with ease. "We'll try hovering first. Just kick off lightly from the ground at my mark and remain there for a few seconds."

Her whistle sounded and Harry kicked his feet from the ground. It felt… natural to him. The wind that blew through his hair, the crisp of the air on his face that made him almost squint. There was an almost weightless feeling that came along with all of it. He thought briefly of a sort of safety gear or harness that could be applied to his body, but he dismissed that thought. For now, he was…

"Potter! Longbottom!" Madam Hooch was blowing her whistle. "You're getting too high! Get back down here this instant!"

What was she talking… about?

Just one look off to his side let Harry know just how high he had gotten. He was a good two stories high, but had maintained a steady float. Imagining harpoons lashing out to attach to the ground, Harry pointed his broom down and back to a float a few centimeters above the ground. Neville, on the other hand, continued to rise, clutching his broom for dear life as he let it steer his ascent.

He tried copying what Harry had done to descend, but he leaned too far onto the front of his broom and shot straight down in a nose-dive. He tried to pull up, but he wasn't fast enough. The front of the broom caught the ground and Neville was launched from his mount, landing with a painful thud!, rolling in on himself and clutching his wrist.

"Out of my way!" Madam Hooch ordered as she ran to the side of the injured Neville. Examining the extent of his injuries, she said, "I'm taking Longbottom to the Hospital Wing. The rest of you stay here and off your brooms. If I see a single broom in the air, you'll be out of here faster than you can say Quidditch."

As Madam Hooch led Neville away, Malfoy and a few other Slytherin students let their sniggering be known to their group of students. There was a hubbub with the Gryffindor students, as well, but that was mainly focused around Harry.

"Blimey, Harry!" Seamus exclaimed. "You looked like a bloody natural up there. How high do you reckon you were?"

"Oh, uh, I'm not sure," Harry said. "Six or eight meters, maybe?"

"You looked like you had perfect control of your broom, too!" Dean joined in.

"I… didn't really know what I was doing," Harry confessed. "I just kind of did it."

"That was bloody brilliant that was!" Ron joined in. "I mean, bad luck for Neville and all, but wicked on your end. Did you hear of the Chudley Cannons? Know who they are? You looked just like-,"

"You looked like Quidditch's newest rising star, that one guy from Bulgaria!" Lavender supplied with nods from Pavarti.

"I don't really know either of those," Harry replied. Before either one of them could look surprised by that, another voice was speaking.

"That was rather reckless of you, don't you think?"

It was the girl with bushy-hair and large front teeth. What did she want?

"Come on, Hermione," Parvati said to her. "You saw him, he had perfect control of what he was doing."

"I did see him," the girl, Hermione, said. "I saw him going against what Madam Hooch said and floating up a few meters high. That looked like a good way to get hurt, or worse - expelled."

Those are her priorities?

"I just got a little too caught up, I guess," Harry said. "I still came back down, didn't I?"

She didn't appear pleased by that. "You shouldn't have had to, that's the point. A few centimeters, that was what we were told, that's what you should've done."

"At least he actually managed to float," Ron said to her. "You couldn't even get your broom to come up by yourself."

"Neither did you," Hermione pointed out which caused the ginger boy's ears to turn a shade to match his hair.

By the time Madam Hooch returned, she decided there would be no more floating exercise following that bit of excitement and ended up having to cut the class short due to her having to escort Neville to the Hospital Wing. She dismissed them and would hold the next session the following Wednesday.

Once they were dismissed, instead of going to the common room or to the Great Hall, he went down towards the dungeons, the note he had been given clenched in his hand. There was someone waiting at the bottom of the steps for him.

"Oh, you actually came. That's good to see." It was Tracey.

"So you act as a messenger and a greeter?" Harry asked her. "Are you aiming to be a desk worker one day, too?"

"Oh-ho, bold barb for a lone Gryffindor," she said with mirth in her glare. "If you had been in Slytherin, you'd know some purebloods aren't too keen on doing menial tasks themselves." She turned. "Come on. Malfoy is down here."

"Should I be worried you're just leading me into a trap of some kind?" Harry asked her.

"No. But you'd be smart to question anyways."

Opening the door to an empty dungeon room, Harry saw Malfoy there without his two gorillas. Instead, there was Daphne, another Slytherin girl and two boy boys whom he didn't recognize.

"Ah, Potter," Malfoy jumped down from the desk he had been swinging his feet to go and greet the Gryffindor. "I'm pleased to see you took me up on my offer."

"I had no reason not to." Aside from you being a prat. "Although this place isn't really the most welcoming."

"Think of it as a sign of trust," Malfoy told him. "For a Slytherin like myself to be seen in public with a Gryffindor, that wouldn't bode well for either of our reputations."

"We do share classes, I've seen the divide between our houses," especially in potions. "I get what you're saying, I just wanted to know why a dungeon. There are plenty of unused classrooms."

"Hardly anyone comes down here if it isn't for class," Malfoy informed. "We'd have Peeves or Filch to worry about if we met on an upper floor."

"I suppose so," Harry could understand, especially after seeing the unpleasant caretaker prowling about the corridors. "Although, you always could have had your two big friends stand watch outside."

"Crabbe and Goyle? Friends?" Malfoy looked offendedly amused. "They do what they're told well enough but it'd be easier to hold a conversation with a brick wall. They're appearance acquaintances at most. Not unlike some of the others here with us."

Harry observed the gathered students. "I recognize two of them. I take it you'll introduce the rest."

"Potter, allow me to introduce you to some of Slytherin's most prestigious first-years." Malfoy turned to the other girl with dark hair and a rather pug-like face. "This is Pansy Parkinson."

"Draco's told me a bit about you, Potter," she walked over to stand next to the pale Malfoy boy. "It seems you're something of an enigma."

"I don't really think I'm that hard to figure out," Harry told her. "And I thought he preferred being called by his last name."

Pansy got a teasing smile on her face that showed a few crooked teeth on the bottom. "That's just a perk of being in the right crowd, as well as some witches' intuition and charm."

"I guess I wouldn't know about that," Harry said, trying not to imagine what sort of "intuition" and "charm" Pansy might have. "Maybe if the hat had put me in Slytherin, I would."

""Maybe?" Daphne caught on. "Do you mean to say that the Sorting Hat considered putting you in Slytherin?"

"It considered a little of every house," Harry supplied. "It seemed to have been having a hard time deciding."

"Ah, so that's why it took so long," one of the other Slytherin boys said. "We were beginning to wonder if you were about to be undetermined."

Malfoy moved away from Pansy. "Potter, this is Theodore Nott. His father and mine are closely acquainted."

"Yeah, hopefully, that can put a stop to any more rumors about me," Harry tried for dry humor. It didn't appear to land for them. "Anyway, Gryffindor seemed like the house that I would regret the least. So far I get along well with most of my classmates and nothing is stopping me from talking to you lot right now."

"Too true, Potter," the other boy said. "I can introduce myself, Malfoy. I'm Blaise Zabini. You seem to conduct yourself well among distinguished peers."

"I was thinking the same thing," Theodore agreed. "You must have studied up on our rich culture before coming here."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I didn't," Harry truthfully said. "I just try to get along as best I can regardless of houses."

Tracey let out a chuckle as she moved to stand next to Daphne. "Playing it so cool and then giving such a Gryffindor answer. Do you boys believe Daphne and I now?"

"So you've been talking about me," Harry didn't ask that.

"Mainly about our little meeting on the train, but yes," she made no move to deny. "We were having a hard time figuring you out. For someone who seems to be so in control, helping Longbottom find his lost toad - that made for a few friendly debates."

"Oh, Longbottom?" Pansy made a face as she arched a brow. "Who else was surprised when McGonagall called out his name? I honestly thought he was a squib."

"What about him at flying class today?" Nott asked. "I didn't think him competitive, trying to outdo the height Potter got. Maybe Longbottom is just full of surprises."

"I heard he broke his wrist from that fall," Pansy supplied. "If he really wanted to surprise us, he would have shown he was smart and landed on that fat arse of his."

"Neville's been kind to me," Harry said something before anyone else could.

"What was that?"

"I said he's been nice to me," Harry repeated, not liking to have done so. "If this meeting is just going to be trash-talking him, I'm really not interested in being here."

Malfoy's face shifted to a concerned confusion. "Don't be so hasty, Potter. Believe me when I say that talking about Longbottom is not how I like to spend my time. But even you've probably noticed that he isn't the most talented at magic as a wizard should be."

"I've noticed," Harry said. "He struggles a lot, he's terrified of Snape, and a bunch of other things, but he isn't a bad person."

"Is he your friend or something?" Pansy asked, the disgust was evident on her face.

It would have been easy to say yes. But he hesitated.

Neville might have been the first student he had met properly, and if he was to be believed, also Godbrothers. But aside from talking about class and working together in most of them, Harry found that he hadn't really talked to Neville about much of anything. It wasn't like what he had with Ymir whom he felt he could talk about anything. Neville relied on him for a lot of things and was timid to take many actions by himself. It was a trait Harry honestly found to be annoying most of the time. Even if they weren't friends, they were…

"We're close," was all Harry said to her. "And like I said, I really don't care about houses and all of that. So if any of you want to be acquainted, don't go around badmouthing people I'm close to."

"Hmph," Nott almost scoffed. "And what? You'll keep Gryffindors from badmouthing Slytherins?" he challenged

"Why not?" Harry asked, much to their surprise.

"You think you can stop Gryffindor from being prejudiced toward us?" Daphne asked. "And do you have a plan of undoing generations of rivalry?"

"Not at all," Harry said. "I can't promise anything for Slytherin as a whole, but I'll say something if someone says anything about any of you. Does that sound like a start?"

Seeing none of his peers willing to respond, Malfoy took it upon himself to do so. "Fine. We'll do it your way, Potter, so long as you do." He extended his hand and Harry gave a small shake. Some of the tension deflated.

"Are we back on friendly terms again?" Tracey asked. "Because now that we've cleared the air about Longbottom, just so we're all on the same page, what's your stance on Granger?"

"Who?" Harry asked before it struck him. "Oh, her. I hardly know her. Today was really the first time I interacted with her. And after that, I'm not really sure if I want to really know more about her." He hadn't really seen that girl hanging around with anyone and it wasn't that hard to see why.

"Well, I'm sure she knows all about you and just about everything, for that matter," Pansy flipped her shorter hair. "We saw her chewing you out today too for that stunt that you pulled."

"Pfft! Please." Malfoy huffed. "That was hardly a stunt. I was ready to go that high myself and show what Father lets me do back at the manor."

"Oh yeah, why didn't you?" Tracey asked.

"On those rickety school brooms?" Malfoy looked offended at the thought. "I'd need at least a Nimbus model. Father said he'd be able to pull some strings and get the 2001 model before it even releases."

"And now we're on the subject of Quidditch," Daphne sighed. "How exciting."

Malfoy seemed not to hear her. "You looked more than a fair flier out there, Potter, but we all have beginner's luck. If I recall, when we first met, you said you didn't have a broom. How'd you manage to get the hang of it?"

Harry had no real answer for him other than it seemed familiar. "Like you said - beginner's luck."

Malfoy seemed to almost buy that, but Harry did receive indifferent stares from Zabini, Tracey, and Pansy.

From there, the conversation did shift to the sport called Quidditch and how it was played. Malfoy seemed to be a fan as he boasted about how his father was working on getting tickets to the World Cup and how he would be trying out for the team next year. Harry was somewhat pleased to see that aside from Pansy, none of the other Slytherin's were really too keen on listening to Malfoy prattle on about himself. Deciding on ending this little meeting after a certain point, Harry agreed to keeping their distance for appearances in public. Even if they were trying to be civil, they still had their reputations at stake.

Aside from it being a brief introduction to some other students, Harry felt it had been more of a Malfoy bragging session. He wondered if this is what the boy did back in the Slytherin dorm before realizing he probably already knew the answer to that question. While Slytherin had been a real tempting choice for him, it didn't seem nearly as appealing if he would have to put up with that day after day. And even if Malfoy had kept his bigoted talk to a minimum, if he began amping it up later on, Harry had no hesitation of calling an end to this little understanding that they had.

What did you make of all that? Harry asked his mental confidant as he left the dungeon.

'I thought you handled that quite well especially since some of them seemed a little unpleasant. I probably couldn't have done that. You seem to be getting quite popular.'

I wouldn't say that, I'm just… doing things.

'Things that are bringing you closer to other people. Can you deny that?'

He couldn't.

Alright. But even if I am, I'm just really meeting people. I wouldn't really call that growing close or being actual friends with them.

'That is true,' she didn't argue there. 'But still, it is a start. I think it's nice that you aren't constricting yourself, how else would you grow?'

By drinking milk, probably.

She chuckled at that.

When the next Transfiguration class rolled around, many of the students were now ready for beginning to turn hay into needles. Lending his second wand to Neville and keeping his jotun one, Harry succeeded the spell on his second attempt.

"Wands down, everyone!" McGonagall called once the final minutes began ticking away. "We will be practicing this spell again in the following class so don't be too disheartened if you did not accomplish it today. Practice makes perfect so strive to practice."

The bell tolled.

"Class dismissed."

As everyone began packing up their supplies, McGonagall walked over to the desk where Harry sat.

"Potter, a moment of your time, please."

Harry looked up at her questioningly, slightly afraid she had caught him slipping a second wand to Neville in her class. "Oh uh… sure, of course."

"I'll write a note excusing any tardiness," she explained. "Something has been brought to my attention that concerns one of your classes."

"Oh." That came as a bit of a relief.

Once the door closed behind them, McGonagall got down to business. "Potter, do you recall a quiz that you recently took in History of Magic?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Hm." She nodded. "Potter, while grading your quiz, Professor Binns came across some, shall I say, puzzling answers and recommend that I discuss it with you. As far as I recall, Professor Binns has never asked this of any Head of House. I have your quiz here. After having read your answers, I should remind you that you are here to study to become a wizard, not mindlessly slack in what many consider to be a dull subject, and I would certainly know

Looks like I did fluke it.

"Did I do that bad, Professor?"

McGonagall gave him a look that was a borderline mix of disapproval and concern.

"The first question: What year did Ragnar lead his division against Magnar the Nasty? You answered 845."

"I thought that was the right answer." With how many dates Binns usually threw around, he figured that was as good a guess as any.

"That is correct, you received partial credit," McGonagall answered. "However your follow up reply is wrong, however. You wrote, the attacking force came from the South where they broke the gate of Shiganshina District." She paused. "There is no goblin city named Shiganshina."

She continued on.

"Question two. Who succeeded Waymar the Wicked? You put, the line of Reiss descended of King Karl Fritz. Question three, who was nicknamed the false king. You had, Rod Reiss was the hidden King of the Walls after the loss of his family and the true ruler Frieda Reiss, his daughter before he was overthrown during an uprising in the year 850 and succeeded by his illegitimate daughter Historia."

He wrote that?

That test was so boring that he had just guessed for most of it. This is what he had come up with?!

"Question five, what was the main conflict for the war? The conflict between Eldians and Marleyians was fought because people could not come to understand each other. To sacrifice the lives of children to become slaves is to kill the future. When asked to elaborate, you put down, Eldians spilled the blood of brothers when the Warriors of Marley clashed with the army of Paradis for possession of the Coordinate by means of Titans."

Wait? What?!

"Describe how the past teaches us of the future we have now; you gave quite an elaborate explanation on this one, Mr. Potter. The three walls named Maria, Rose, and Sina were used to stand for order, but they had just been slaves to their own blood. They were just meant to carry on a single purpose, as was their mother, a woman hailed as both a goddess and devil for her service to the first King Fritz over 2000 years ago. She was just a normal girl at the beginning and the end - a girl named Ymir Fritz."

Harry felt a seeping cold trail down from the top of his head and down his spine to make him shiver. He had… written that?

"And I also must tell you that while your art skills are impressive, you are not permitted to draw on graded material."

"Can… um… can I see that?" He had to, just to see for himself that it was real.

She handed him back his paper which was full of correctional marks. On the bottom of the parchment, he had made a drawing. It showed a toothy devil-looking creature with an evil grin, hooved feet, a tail, and a pointy beard with curved horns offering up an apple to a young girl.

"I have talked to Professor Binns about the possibility of allowing you to retake his quiz," McGonagall informed him, but Harry was largely unresponsive. His attention focused solely on the drawing. "Potter."

"Wh- hm? Sorry, what did you say, Professor?" his ears felt that they had toll bells shoved inside of them, his head basically ringing.

"Retaking the quiz, Potter," she repeated slowly. "I highly suggest that you do so over your weekend."

He just felt his head nodding along, not really knowing or caring about what retaking it meant. "Alright."

McGonagall nodded, keenly observing him. "Do try to do better, Potter. I can't guarantee anything about taking it a third time."

She dismissed him from her room, but Harry didn't instantly go to his next class. He leaned back against the cold stone wall outside her class and felt himself slinking downwards. Something about that drawing made him feel… disgusted. He didn't like looking at that smirking devil, preferring if it had a more neutral expression and maybe a hood to cover its face.

That disgust was cracking and Harry felt the hot sting of embers ignite in the pit of his stomach. He stood back up.

Ymir. Hey, Ymir!

Her reply was quick. 'Yes. What is it?'

What is this?! Harry loudly conveyed as he held the parchment up close to his face.

'Isn't that the quiz that you took in that one class? Did you not do well?'

They want me to take it again. These answers that I put, I don't even recognize some of these. Eldians? Marleyians? Reiss family? Titans? I even wrote about your island of Paradis!

'...You did?' she asked. It was hard to tell if she was surprised or worried. 'Why'd you do that?'

How should I know?! Harry's frustration grew. I barely remember taking this quiz! Why would I write answers about your island - I know nothing about it! Was this you?

'Eh?' now she was confused.

You heard me! Was this you? This… connection that we have, did you do something to make me put these answers down, because I can't think of why I would do it! If this is your idea of a joke, you aren't as funny as you think you are!

Her reply was concise. 'I'd never force you to do anything.'

She had done it again. Just by saying something so simple in such a genuine tone, Harry found it nigh impossible to argue or to even keep his anger directed toward her. Whatever her involvement was - if there was any, perhaps had not been intentional. She had been nothing but supportive since he began talking with her, why would she want to see him fail now?

The hot embers began to cool and he found himself leaning back against the wall.

...I'm… sorry.

'I'm not upset,' she assured him. 'I didn't take that test for you, but maybe you were right.'

How do you mean? She had his attention.

'Eldians are the group of people native from Paradis Island. Marleyians were amongst others who sought conflict with the island. They went so far as using brainwashed Eldian children as soldiers to infiltrate the land and try to destroy it from within.' She paused. 'Maybe you put that down because that history is mine. If you don't know the extent of our path, you could have traveled it without knowing.'

Harry wasn't sure how much sense that made, but it made more sense than it probably should have. He believed her when she said she wouldn't force him into anything, he knew he was the one to take that quiz, those answers just were beyond him. He would have to do well to keep his mind from wandering when he was taking tests and exams from now on. The idea of unintentionally writing down answers from another history was not appealing and he wasn't sure if he wanted to see just how deep his link with Ymir went.

But there was still one thing that bugged him more than the rest.

One more thing, Harry told her. For now, at least. He still had many questions, but this took priority.

'What is it?'

This last answer, I wrote about someone named Ymir Fritz, about it all started and ended with her. He paused. Is that… you?

Her response was cryptically simple.

'Not exactly. Not anymore.'

A/N: Thank you for reading. Next chapter: As Halloween comes around, so does a danger. Chapter 7: Kill.