Monday, 4th September
After a truly scintillating forty-five minutes on Emeric the Evil, Harry was more than grateful to leave Binns' droning voice behind him as he followed the others down to the dungeon. Honestly, if Binns hadn't already been dead, he would've been tempted to kill him himself for making him doubt his love of magical history - how the hell could someone make goblin rebellions sound boring?!
Silently shaking his head, he joined the others standing outside what was supposedly the potions lab, waiting for Snape to open the door. There was a clear divide between the Houses - Gryffindor on the left side of the corridor and Slytherins on the right, which made him want to shake his head again because-
Really? House rivalry was actually a Thing here? Associating with other kids the exact same age as you and potentially from the exact same background as you was considered social suicide because you were wearing different coloured ties?!
Perhaps he should move 'abolishing House rivalries' further up The List…
Seeing Neville, Hermione, and Ron come around the corner, Harry smiled at them and nodded. Neville smiled back immediately, Hermione hesitated just for a split second before smiling at him too, and - after a sharp dig in the ribs from her - Ron nodded at him shortly, seeming… conflicted. For Merlin's sake, Harry hadn't suddenly turned into evil incarnate just because he was sleeping in a different room from the boy! This stupid childish behaviour was exactly why he'd been dreading coming to Hogwarts in the first place!
Thankfully, before he could work himself into too much of a state, he heard a high-pitched eerie creak as the door to the classroom opened and Snape stood there in all of his seething glory. Harry distantly wondered if the man had cast a rusting spell on the hinges on purpose, just to make a dramatic entrance.
"Inside. Now".
Quickly grabbing his bag from the ground by his feet, Harry followed Blaise and the other Slytherins inside - the Gryffindors apparently wanting to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.
"Hey". There was a gentle nudge on his arm. "You any good at Potions?"
"Theory, yes" he admitted, "Practice, not so much".
Blaise grimaced. "Damn. I was hoping you could improve my grade. You don't mind if I pair up with Malfoy instead, do you?"
"Go for it" he replied easily, bypassing the blond's desk to stop in the second row instead, dropping his bag to the floor next to him and taking a seat.
"Anybody sitting here?"
He turned, surprised, to find Theodore Nott standing next to him, hand hovering over the empty chair.
"Not at all. Please". He gestured for him to sit, and the tanned boy did so, silently.
Harry hadn't yet had a chance to talk to him one-on-one, but from the limited interactions he'd seen him have with others, he appeared to be a sharp, reserved, and highly intelligent boy with a surprisingly wicked sense of humour that he usually kept under lock and key. He also knew that his mother had died when he'd been young and he'd been raised solely by his father who had once been a crucial part of Voldemort's Inner Circle - so this was sure to be an interesting lesson.
"Settle down" Snape said coldly, shutting the door behind him, although from what Harry could see, there was no real need for the order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape's mere presence was apparently enough to ensure a class's silence, and he couldn't help but smirk, admittedly rather impressed with the man.
"Before we begin today's lesson" Snape continued, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my… displeasure".
His gaze lingered upon Neville, who gulped.
"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me" he went on, "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye, but we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell, so-"
"Do you plan on keeping it on?" Harry whispered, and Theodore nodded, once. "Yes. You?"
"I'd like to" he replied honestly, "Although I don't have much practical experience yet".
"But you have theoretical experience?" Nott asked quietly, a hint of curiosity in his voice, and this time it was Harry who nodded, although he didn't expand any further. Hopefully, the boy's innate desire for knowledge would keep him interested and coming back for more.
"-need to pay close attention to what you are doing" Snape finished, "The ingredients and method are on the blackboard, you will find everything you need in the store cupboard, and you have an hour and a half… Begin".
"Want me to get your ingredients for you?" Harry asked, already making his way around their desk. Nott gave him a surprised and somewhat suspicious look but nodded all the same.
The store cupboard was just as meticulously organised as Harry had expected and it didn't take him long to retrieve two of everything. He hadn't heard the name of the potion they were expected to make due to his quiet chat with Theodore, but he could make a rough guess based on the ingredients they were using.
Moonstones he knew were used only in the most potent of elixirs - everything from love potions to Remus's wolfsbane. Syrup of Hellebore was used in that too, but stewed mandrakes weren't, so perhaps it was some sort of restorative draught? Although unicorn horns were only used in healing potions… and porcupine quills were rarely used at all… unless it was some sort of happiness elixir, but surely that wasn't considered advanced enough for an O.W.L.s class - and it definitely wasn't advanced enough to be up to Snape's standards - which meant the potion had to be one that affected the mind in some sort of healing manner that also involved raising someone's happiness levels… something to do with depression or anxiety, perhaps? He definitely remembered reading about an advanced form of the calming draught a few years ago…
Harry blinked and found himself back at their desk, separating out his and Nott's ingredients into two neat piles. The boy had been busy himself while he collected them - there was already a fire lit underneath Harry's cauldron and his stirring rod, mortar and pestle, and brass scales were ready to be used as well.
"Thanks" Theodore said, and he returned the sentiment, before looking up at the blackboard and- Yep. It was the Draught of Peace. He'd been right.
Harry diligently began to crush his moonstone, feeling somewhat awkward and clumsy with the heavy tool in his hands. Next to him, Nott was using his own tools deftly, nimble fingers expertly grinding the moonstone into a fine powder before adding it to his cauldron and beginning to crush his unicorn horn next. He clearly had the practical side of potions down - perhaps Harry could offer a trade? Book knowledge for hands-on knowledge?
"So do you already have an idea of what you'd like to do after Hogwarts, then? If you're planning on keeping on potions?" he asked, "I know it's a requirement for a lot of Ministry positions".
Nott's hands briefly stilled before he slowly started twisting the pestle once more.
"I'd like to work in the Department of Mysteries" he said quietly, almost cautiously, as if expecting Harry to laugh.
Then again, what with him being the next Marquess of Nottingham, many people probably did laugh. People of Theodore's status simply did not work. They attended Wizengamot meetings, they showed up at gala's wearing expensive robes, and they spent the rest of their time being advised on smart investments and ordering house-elves around in their fancy manor houses. Wanting to pursue a career, any career, let alone one in the Ministry, would most certainly be seen as a downgrade.
"Oh yeah? What division?" Harry asked, forcing himself to sound more enthusiastic than usual and then internally wincing at how preppy he sounded - but it was worth it when some of the tension left the boy's shoulders.
"The Time Room" he replied, more readily now, "I'd like to work with time-turners, see how they're made, how they function, if it's possible to remove the five-hour limit and go back even further… things like that".
"You don't think the Hour-Reversal charm is necessary? What about Croaker's law?"
Nott, who was now halfway through adding his first batch of stewed mandrake, briefly froze until the angry spitting of his potion snapped him out of it and he quickly reduced the flames beneath his cauldron before fully turning to him, his honey-brown eyes wide.
"You know about Croaker's law?"
"Of course, I know about Croaker's law!" Harry shot back, stirring his potion counterclockwise, "What self-respecting witch or wizard doesn't? It's time travel! You can literally go back in time, and you're telling me that no one else is amazed by this?!"
It was the most expressive he'd ever seen the boy.
"... I am" he eventually said, quietly, before abruptly turning back to his cauldron, "I don't believe in Croaker's law though, and as soon as I get a chance, I plan on tracking him down and challenging him on it too! I mean, five hours is such an arbitrary number, don't you think?"
"Maybe, but he did say that five hours is the longest period that you can relive without the possibility of serious harm to time itself or-"
"Well, I don't think time is that fickle!" Theodore interrupted, "I mean, if the flow of time was really that unstable, then surely any duration of going back would be enough to disrupt it! And Croaker never wrote about how multiple time travellers affect it! If three different people go back five hours each, then that's fifteen hours, but guess what? There's no 'serious harm to time itself' then! Why not? Five hours is meaningless! And don't even get me started on the Hour-Reversal charm being dangerous to use beyond five hours, because the power of any charm depends solely on the caster so why don't the Unspeakables just-"
Harry stared at him in shock.
Nott wasn't quiet or reserved at all - he was quite possibly fanatic.
If all he had to do to get him to open up was ask about his hyper-fixation, Harry would've brought time travel up during their first dinner together. Perhaps he should introduce him to Hermione…
"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion" Snape announced, and with a jolt, Harry realised that there were only ten minutes left to go.
Adding his now-powdered porcupine quills, he carefully watched his cauldron for the necessary colour change while continuing to listen to Theodore's time-related rant. His potion was no longer orange, at least, which was a good sign, and it was starting to ever so slowly turn turquoise, which was an even better sign.
"Longbottom, what is this supposed to be?"
The room suddenly fell silent, and Harry glanced over at the Gryffindors to see a very nervous Neville standing in front of an almost black potion. Next to him, Ron's cauldron was spitting green sparks, whereas Hermione's had a perfect shimmering mist of silver, just as it should have.
"The D-Draught of P-Peace, sir?"
Snape did not look impressed. "Tell me, Longbottom, can you read?"
From behind him, Harry heard Malfoy poorly muffle a snort.
"Y-Yes sir, I can".
"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Longbottom".
Neville squinted at the blackboard. Even for Harry, in the second row, it wasn't easy to make out the instructions through the haze of multicoloured steam now filling the dungeon.
"'Add p-powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two d-drops of syrup of hellebore'".
"Did you do everything on the third line?"
"No sir. I f-forgot the hellebore".
"I know you did, Longbottom, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesco!"
The contents of Neville's potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron. Harry frowned. He could understand why Snape had vanished it - an incorrectly brewed potion could be fatal, after all - but simply pointing out Neville's mistake without explaining why it was a mistake didn't seem very useful to anyone.
"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing" Snape said, returning to the front of the room, "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday".
There was a screech of chairs as everyone quickly filled their vials and began to pack up, eager to escape the professor's wrath.
Harry raised his hand.
The room fell silent once more.
Snape raised a solitary eyebrow at him. "Yes, Mr Potter?"
"Why is forgetting to add the hellebore a bad thing?"
From behind him, there came another laugh, but Malfoy quickly shut up again when he realised Harry was serious.
"I beg your pardon?"
Their professor was evidently in disbelief as well.
"Why is forgetting to add the hellebore a bad thing?" he repeated calmly, "I understand that it makes the potion unusable, sir, but why? What effect does it have?"
Snape steepled his fingers together, his dark gaze boring into his own. It was difficult to tell if he was annoyed or intrigued by the question.
"... What effect do you think it has?"
Oh, so it was going to be like that, was it?
"Well, I know that the hellebore plant is poisonous and that the syrup extracted from it has a soporific effect" Harry replied slowly, "The moonstone increases the potency of the potion, but without the hellebore there to react with it, then it would increase the potency of whatever the person taking it was feeling. Since this is meant to be an anti-anxiety potion, forgetting to add the hellebore would… what, make the drinker even more agitated?"
For the smallest, briefest, tiniest second there was a flash of a smile across the professor's face.
"Five points to Slytherin" Snape replied softly, "As Potter rather verbosely explained, not adding the syrup of hellebore results in a concoction that causes the exact opposite of the desired effect. Longbottom's… creation would send the drinker's anxiety into overdrive and quite possibly cause them to have a nervous breakdown".
He scanned the room briefly before pausing for a moment on Neville, who was looking remarkably less scared.
"Perhaps now you understand why reading the instructions thoroughly is a worthwhile endeavour?"
The boy quickly nodded.
"Yes sir".
There was no trace of a stutter.
"Good. Dismissed".
The flurry of activity began again, and Harry was relieved to find that the flagon of his potion was only ever so slightly off-colour. He hadn't failed this class yet, at least. Carefully writing his name on it, he was pleasantly surprised when Nott offered to bring it up to the professor's desk for him.
"I won't say that you were wrong, challenging Snape like that" Theodore muttered to him, "But I will say that it is always a good idea to steer clear of him for a while after you do so".
"Speaking from experience there, Lord Berkeley?" he teased, and the boy smirked, briefly. "Perhaps… But call me Theo, alright? Anyone who knows Croaker's law is worth being on a first-name basis with, in my books".
Two down, seven to go.
"I agree. Harry, then" he replied, holding out his hand, and Nott - Theo - readily shook it before turning to hand up their potions.
Across the room, he briefly made eye contact with Neville, who nodded at him with a smile, and Harry couldn't help but smile back. If all of his classes went like this one, then perhaps staying at Hogwarts wouldn't be so bad after all.
The chatter in the corridors was lively as they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch.
Harry walked alongside Theo, his mind still on the lesson and the satisfying feeling of having actually managed to brew a passable potion. The corners of his mouth twitched up even further as Blaise fell into step beside them, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Well, meu amor" he began, "Either you've got a death wish, or you've managed the impossible".
"What's the impossible?" Harry asked, already bracing himself for the inevitable teasing.
"You talked back to Snape and survived!" He widened his eyes almost comically. "And you say he doesn't like you. If I'd said all of that to him, I'd have been hexed into next week!"
He snorted. "You're exaggerating, Blaise. Neville was the one with the disastrous potion, and Snape didn't hex him".
"Well, yeah, sure, but that's because he expects Longbottom to be a disaster! He's always been shit at Potions! You, on the other hand, have apparently earned his respect or something equally ridiculous. Merlin, you really can't be normal about anything, can you?"
"I think he just likes Harry better than you" Theo chimed in, getting playfully shoved for his troubles.
"Watch it, Nott! I'm the most loveable Slytherin around, ask anyone! But Snape definitely likes Potter to some degree. If I ever tried to give an answer like he did, Snape would probably just stop me halfway through and say that I was wasting his time".
"Because you're dreadful at Potions, that's why" Draco interjected smoothly, "Even your handwriting on your labels looks like it's been jinxed".
Blaise clutched a hand on his chest as if mortally wounded. "I'll have you know my handwriting is perfectly legible, Malfoy! It's just… got character".
"Got character?" Theo echoed, raising an eyebrow, "I didn't know 'character' meant 'looks like a troll wrote it with a broken quill'".
"You've must got tons of character in your family tree then, huh?"
They reached the Slytherin table, already piled high with food, and took, what Harry was starting to realise, were their usual seats.
"Anyway" Blaise continued, filling his plate, "You've got guts, Potter. Talking back to Snape on your very first day? That's legendary! Suicidal too, perhaps, but fun to watch all the same".
"Hardly" Harry replied, rolling his eyes at him, "He probably just appreciated that someone in his class was actually paying attention".
Malfoy snorted, reaching for a pitcher of pumpkin juice. "Don't flatter yourself, Potter. Snape doesn't appreciate anyone".
"Is that a hint of jealousy I hear, my liege?"
"Oh, fuck off, Zabini!"
"Away from you? Gladly".
Across the Great Hall, Harry caught Ginny glancing over at him. She seemed unsure whether to wave or look away, so Harry offered her a small smile and a nod. She returned it tentatively before turning back to her conversation with her brother. Ron, Harry noted with a pang of irritation, wasn't even pretending to acknowledge him.
"Or" Theo added with a smirk, dragging his attention back to his own table, "Snape realised that Harry here actually has a brain and decided to reward him for using it… unlike some people I could mention".
Blaise raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it! I'm Slytherin's Longbottom when it comes to Potions - but I've got you all beat in Runes, though!"
"You most certainly do" Harry replied mildly, "Especially since I don't even take the subject".
Malfoy laughed and then looked disgusted with himself for doing so, which caused Blaise to laugh even harder, despite the insult having been aimed at him.
Harry made his way to the next class, Arithmancy, feeling more settled after Potions than he'd anticipated. He was still adjusting to having everyone stare at him and whisper and point, but the tension from the earlier lessons seemed to have loosened somewhat.
Theo was walking beside him and on the boy's other side was Daphne Greengrass. Aside from a perfunctory "hello", she hadn't said a word to Harry. She wasn't… cold, as such, and she certainly wasn't hostile towards him in the same way that Parkinson was, but she definitely wasn't trying to be his friend either. He got the sense that she was waiting for something - waiting for him to do something, perhaps, and until that time, she would reserve judgment on him.
It was a calculated move, strategic, fit for a true Slytherin - but also fit for Wizengamot. Her father, Edward Greengrass, Viscount Rutland, was a crossbencher - the leader of the crossbenchers in fact, given that his was the highest-ranking title. It was beyond ridiculous that his eldest child wouldn't get the same opportunities as him just because she was a girl. Yet another thing to move to the top of The List…
They arrived at the Arithmancy classroom on the seventh floor. Harry hadn't been up this high in the castle yet and was amazed at the views he saw from the corridor windows as he passed them. There was the Great Lake, its waters eerily still and as murky as ever. Harry thought he saw the faint ripples of something big moving beneath the surface and wondered what lived in its depths.
He could see the tops of the greenhouses too, their glass panes catching glints of light despite the overcast sky, along with the very edge of the Forbidden Forest, the trees dark and ominous and endless. Honestly though, wasn't calling it the Forbidden Forest just making it all that much more likely that kids would sneak off to visit it? Harry knew that he wanted to.
The classroom was filled with neat rows of desks, a blackboard covered in white chalk, and number charts hanging on the walls. As Remus had said, he had a good head for numbers, and now he was intrigued to see what Arithmancy was all about. It seemed like a subject he might enjoy - numbers and magic were a combination he had never really thought about before despite his love for both topics individually.
Stepping into the room, Harry saw Hermione sitting by herself in the front row. She looked entirely at home, her quill already poised over an open notebook, books stacked beside her with careful precision, their titles just visible, ready and waiting to be referenced. Not wanting to make Theo choose between him and Daphne - and also because he genuinely wanted to talk to the intelligent girl again, Harry said a quick goodbye and slid into the seat beside her.
Hermione gave him a small smile, her textbook already open in front of her. "Hey, Harry. How's your first day been?"
"Better than expected" he admitted, opening his own notebook, "Yours?"
"Pretty good. I had an interesting Ancient Runes class this morning and- well, you were in History of Magic and Potions too". Her cheeks turned slightly red. "Listen, Harry, what you did with Professor Snape…"
"Don't worry about it" he replied easily, "I don't think he was wrong to vanish Neville's potion like that, but he definitely could've done so more quietly, and then taken literally two seconds to explain what the problem was".
"Yeah, I think so too, but anytime I've ever tried to say anything… Well. Professor Snape doesn't really like Gryffindors that much".
"Why not?"
Hermione shrugged. "No idea - but he definitely has something against us".
Harry sat back with a frown. Why did Snape hate Gryffindors? Was that why he hated Sirius? But Remus had been in Gryffindor too and, although Severus definitely wasn't friends with the man, he was at least civil towards him in a way that he certainly wasn't with Sirius. Was that because they had worked together here at Hogwarts? It seemed a bit of a stretch…
But maybe it wasn't just about their Houses. Based on Snape and Sirius's interactions with each other, Harry had gotten the impression that there was something… deeper there, something personal. He filed the thought away for later. This wasn't the time to dissect Snape's grudges - especially not when he had a brand-new subject to focus on.
"Good afternoon, everyone".
Refocusing his attention, Harry turned as an attractive young woman in red robes appeared. Professor Vector had a warm but no-nonsense expression and she began class immediately, laying out a series of magical equations on the board.
"Arithmancy, as you know" she began, "is the study of numbers and their magical properties. Much like how muggles have learned to assign significance to certain numbers, so too do wizards and witches. But unlike muggles, we focus on the actual magical implications of numbers themselves, not just their symbolic meanings".
Harry felt his curiosity spark and quickly started taking notes. The lines of the equations on the board were neat and elegant, the kind of precise structure that appealed to him in a way his previous subjects hadn't. It reminded him of the satisfaction he'd felt whenever Rowle had slapped down his corrected maths homework in front of him and Harry saw that he'd gotten full marks.
"Let's start with a brief refresher" Vector continued, "We'll begin with the most powerful number in the wizarding world - seven. For centuries, this has been considered the number of completion and perfection, and it can often be found almost anywhere".
The number seven? Harry frowned. What was so great about the number seven? Although… now that he thought about it… Weren't they in classroom seven? On the seventh floor? With seven staircases between them and the Great Hall? And weren't there seven players on a Quidditch team? And seven core subjects taught at Hogwarts? And- hang on, didn't the Weasleys have seven children too? And hadn't he himself been born in the seventh month?!
Good god. It really could be found anywhere.
"Why is seven the most magical number?" he whispered to Hermione, "Like, out of all of them?"
She frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know. I think it's got something to do with the number's frequency in the magical world, and how many things are built around it. Seven is the number that crops up the most for witches and wizards - and, of course, it's a prime number too, which makes it even more significant".
Prime numbers did have a sense of power attached to them… Harry sat back in his seat, tapping his quill lightly against his notebook, his mind moving in another direction.
"What about three?" he asked her, "Three is another number that comes up a lot - both in the muggle world and in the wizarding world, right?"
"It's considered the next most powerful after seven" Hermione confirmed, "In fact, I think I remember reading somewhere that when it comes to old traditions, three is actually more powerful than seven since it's considered more balanced".
Harry considered her words for a moment. He had been born at the end of July, the seventh month, on the thirty-first. Three and seven. He hadn't considered it before, but perhaps… had his birthday had something to do with his magic? When had Dumbledore been born? He was July as well, wasn't he? Harry remembered seeing it on one of the chocolate frog cards Ron had passed him on the train to-
Wait.
Did that mean that the Dark Lord had been born in July too?! He couldn't have been, right? That would just be too weird… Although, as long as he had a three or a seven in his birthdate, then Harry's theory would hold true. He wondered how he could find out - and then had to quickly bite back laughter at the image of him going up to Albus Dumbledore during an Order meeting just to ask him when Lord Voldemort's birthday was.
But was this why some witches and wizards were more powerful than others? He'd read - and reread - Waffling's Magical Theory textbook a hundred times by now and had found out everything he could about spell energy. A certain amount of the power that someone could put behind a spell was determined by their emotions, but the rest of that power was an inherent part of themselves. There were theories that said it was related to blood purity - a whole lot of nonsense in Harry's opinion, given that the top five most powerful wizards he knew were all half-bloods - so was his own high level of spell energy a result of his birthday?!
That sounded absolutely ridiculous... Then again, there were plenty of other even more ridiculous things that existed in the wizarding world - so who's to say that this wasn't true, too?
"Hey" he whispered, leaning in close to Hermione once more, "Hypothetically, if I wanted to find out someone's birthday without asking them about it directly, how would I go about doing that?"
She frowned, her warm brown eyes narrowed in concentration as she took down Professor Vector's notes from the blackboard.
"There's records at the Ministry, I think" she replied absently, "But why can't you ask them directly? Have you known them too long? It isn't my birthday you're wondering about, is it?"
"No, no, it's-" He stopped, paused, and thought. "... Actually, yeah, when is your birthday?"
Hermione was undoubtedly one of the brightest in their year, after all, and he'd already heard more than one person say she got top marks in everything - and she was a muggle-born which automatically put her at a disadvantage so if she was still outperforming the pure-bloods, then she had to been naturally gifted too.
"September nineteenth".
Damn. There went that theory... Unless-
"What year?"
"Seventy-nine".
Seven. It was a bit of a stretch but… oh, who was he kidding; it was far too great a stretch to make without his theory snapping in two… Unless the number nine was also magically powerful, of course…
Professor Vector's voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the lesson. "The number seven is unique not only because of its frequency in magical contexts but also because of its resilience. Unlike other numbers, seven resists division into symmetrical patterns in magic - similar to the number three. This quality makes it highly unpredictable and thus incredibly potent. Wizards and witches have relied on it for centuries in spellcraft, warding, and even potion brewing".
Harry scribbled furiously, trying to keep up. Resists division? That was interesting. Most of what he'd read about magic emphasized balance and symmetry - like how wands had cores balanced with their woods, or how potion ingredients were added in carefully measured proportions. Was seven magical because it broke those rules? And three? And possibly nine? And-
Hang on.
Desperately hoping that he wasn't about to make a fool of himself by asking a stupid question, Harry raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr Potter?"
"What about odd versus even numbers?" he asked, somewhat cautiously, "You've mentioned three and seven, so… do odd numbers have more innate magical properties than even ones?"
Thankfully, Professor Vector nodded approvingly. "An excellent question. Odd numbers are traditionally associated with growth, change, and dynamic magic, while even numbers represent stability and protection. Both have their uses, of course, but odd numbers tend to be favoured in spellcraft that requires power or spontaneity. Seven, being both odd and prime, is particularly versatile".
Excellent. His own birthday was the thirty-first of the seventh, Hermione's was the nineteenth of the ninth, Dumbledore's was definitely sometime during the seventh month too - and all of those numbers were odd. Now all he had to do to further prove his theory was find some way of accessing Lord Slytherin's Ministry records…
By the end of class, Harry's head was spinning with new information.
Professor Vector had moved on to the basics of magical equations, demonstrating how to calculate the energy required for certain spells based on their numerical correspondences. Harry found himself unexpectedly fascinated. The idea that numbers could measure and predict magic was just… insane!
"That was brilliant" he said as they packed up their things, "I mean, I don't think I understood half of it, but it was just- brilliant!"
Hermione smiled, looking pleased.
"It'll get easier with practice. Arithmancy is one of those subjects where everything builds on what you've already learned". She hesitated, then added, "If you ever want help with it, I'd be happy to study with you".
"Thanks, Hermione. I might take you up on that". Harry glanced over at the equations still scrawled on the board. "Do you think there's a way to calculate why some people have more innate spell energy than others? Like, if there's a formula for it?"
She frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think anyone's ever found a definitive answer to that. Most magical theorists agree that it's a combination of factors - inheritance, environment, emotional capacity, and so on. But if anyone could figure out a formula for it, it would definitely involve some form of Arithmancy".
He needed to reread Waffling's Magical Theory again.
"You ever think about how many things in the magical world are based on muggle numbers?"
"Only all the bloody time!" she immediately gushed, "It's fascinating, isn't it? The way magic and mathematics overlap - it's like the universe still manages to have its own logic, even when it seems utterly chaotic!"
And if magic did have its own logic, then that meant that there had to be a way to understand it - and Harry was determined to figure it out.