Chapter 5: The Story of Hats and Chaps

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Neville nodded as Hagrid raised a gigantic fist. He knocked three times on the castle door. Harry could feel his heart thumping in his chest. This was it; the start to his latest adventure.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross. She could very well be Master Yen Sid's long-lost sister with the way her eyes slowly roamed over them.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid reported at once in her presence.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she replied in a no-nonsense tone, but still nodded kindly, "I will take them from here." and with that said, Hagrid bowed and left her with the young charges, but not before giving a wink over at Harry.

Huh, and he had almost forgot his vow to kiss Hagrid's ass the next time he saw him. Oh well, that could be fulfilled sometime later in the year…

The stern witch pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have parked at least six of the smaller Gummi ships within it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to easily make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right, the rest of the school must already been inside, but Professor McGonagall showed them, the First Years, into a small, empty chamber just off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather close together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously. Harry, however, was not the least bit nervous. If anything, then he was positively bubbling with excitement and anxiety to get things started.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall started, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house Common Room."

She paused shortly to give them all another sweeping glance as Yen Sid normally did. Honestly, were the two related?

"The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

Harry raised a brow at the mention of a House Cup. Was it a big enormous trophy they could win? Merlin hadn't mentioned anything about fabulous prizes to be had.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." She almost seemed to smile at them, but then she turned around and left the room, closing the door after her.

Two seconds after she was gone, Harry couldn't take it anymore.

"Well crap, and here I thought I was getting away from Old Man Yen Sid…" Harry's shoulders sagged as Hermione, Ron, and Neville looked at him weirdly.

"Who?" Hermione asked with a curious expression.

"Well, you see, I was raised a bit differently than most people. When my parents died, I didn't go to the last of my relatives, or to an orphanage. Instead, I was given to my mentors, who watched over me like guardians. But, they each also took the time to raise me and teach me things. One of my guardians and mentors was named Yen Sid. He's a powerful sorcerer and wizened wizard. But, he's also this major drill master!" Harry flagged his arms for emphasis. "He almost never smiles, and he's always on your back about stuff. He's very strict, extra cranky, and really hard to please."

"But…" Neville prompted, because it seemed Harry couldn't go three sentences of complaint without giving at least one compliment.

"But he cares a lot, and his lessons really hit home with me. And I suppose that if I didn't have someone as strict as him in my life, then I wouldn't be the amazing person I am today." Harry struck a heroic pose as the other First Years around him looked on in awe.

"If your head got any bigger, Potter, then the rest of us would die from suffocation." a nasally, arrogant voice called out from just behind Harry, adding, "Longbottom, be useful and find me a needle. We need to release some of the hot air in Potter's skull."

Harry slowly turned around to see Draco Malfoy and his two thickset, mean-looking lackeys.

"Oh yes, I forgot to introduce you last time. This is Crabbe and this is Goyle," Draco introduced after a beat.

"Wow, what have you been feeding them, Drake?" Harry asked.

"My name is Draco."

"That's what I said, Donald." and Harry snickered as he thought of a certain du-

"I swear to Circe, Potter! If you don't start calling me by my proper name, I'll-"

"You'll do what?" Harry challenged as Draco glared at him.

"Umm, Ha-Harry? I don't think you should be starting a row here." Neville said timidly in the face of Draco's near palatable anger. "You'll be expelled before even starting school."

"That'd be a new record for me!" Harry said, pumping a fist into the air. "And it'd totally top Old Man Mer- I mean… Old Man Emyrs' stunts!" Harry turned to Neville, "Besides Neville, I'm not starting a row. I'm starting a fight. Why would I want to start a row? This isn't the choir or paddle-boat club, ya know."

"Dunderhead, a row is a fight." Draco hissed in annoyance. Harry blinked.

"Uhh… Huh?"

"It's a bit of slang, Harry." Hermione explained, "You see, a row means any sort of noisy quarrel or racket that happens."

"Ohh," Harry said blinking at Hermione before he smiled, giving the girl a thumps-up. "You're really smart, Hermon."

Hermione blushed, "My name is Hermione, Harry. Hermione Granger."

"Okay, Hermione."

"HEY! HOW COME YOU GOT HER NAME RIGHT?!" Ron and Draco glared at Harry in prime indignation.

"Rocky, Disco. Come on, calm down. She's a lovely lady." Harry said placating before turning to Neville. "Can you calm them down, Norman?"

"S-Sure, Harry." Neville decided not to even fight the fact that Harry got his name wrong while Ron and Draco both berated him for having no pride in himself, but then starting fighting with each other because the other had agreed with one another. Neville then tried to quiet them, but they both turned to him.

"SHUT UP, NORMAN!" they snarled as Neville shrank back.

Thankfully, all the rage flying between Ron and Draco kept most of the other students around them from being too nervous about the upcoming sorting, because now they were all too nervous that Draco and Ron would start a fist-fight at any moment. Insults flew from one boy to the other. Draco insulting Ron's family for their disgrace and poverty. Ron insulting Draco's own family for being snobs and arse-kissers.

"ENOUGH!" Harry shouted, and with a snap of his fingers, both boys were silenced forcefully by what felt like tape on their mouths. "I could take the smack-talk about Ron's long nose, and Draco's stupid hair, but trash-talking one another's families is OUT OF THE QUESTION! You don't know anything about each other's families other than what you've heard. Hell, you barely know each other. The next time I hear one of you speaking ill of something you don't understand or know, it'll be ME you have to fight. Got it memorized, mates?" Harry finished, a dark look to his normally laid-back expression while Draco and Ron paled at the energy crackling off Harry like electricity. The two could only nod dumbly as they're mouths were still forced shut.

Another snap of Harry's fingers gave them back the power of speech.

Before Draco could tear into Harry for having silenced him and the deflation of his Malfoy family ego when it came to being superior at magic, the doors to the Great Hall opened once more and the First Years were allowed entrance.

Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by hundreds of thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the First Years up there, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, a few ghosts shone misty silver. Harry walked proudly throughout all the staring, even as it started to become a bit uncomfortable. He wanted fame and prestige, but this was a little ridiculous. The eyes on them simply stared, not for admiration or expectation's sake, but merely the blank stare that only kids could produce right before the exciting part of something came. Harry looked upward. He saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

"Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." he heard Hermione whisper.

"Hermione," he whispered back, "I get that you're smart, but please don't take away our childish sense of wonder while you show off that big brain of yours."

Hermione and several others blinked at him, then she blushed and looked down while the others giggled and snickered around them. Harry nudged her, and when she looked up at him, he gave her a brilliant smile which for some reason made her smile back shyly.

Harry looked ahead of them again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed, yet slouched wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Maybe he'd make his first prank by getting a rabbit out of it, Harry thought with a smirk. That'd show everyone just how awesome he is. Noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing:

Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bent toward each of the four tables in turn and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered furiously to a grinning Harry, "I'll kill Fred! He was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed, and used Ron as support to stop himself from falling to the floor.

"And why'd you believe that stuff?" Harry asked after he stopped looking like a crazed loon in the eyes of the other new students, "Honestly, I've seen your twin brothers. They don't look like the type to stick around long enough to even smell a troll. Trust me, I've seen a fair few while living with my mentors."

"What about the hat's song, Harry?" Neville asked behind him with Draco at his side.

"Just be yourself, Neville. You don't have to try and be anything for anyone but who you are." Harry said, in one of those rare moments of sincerity. Everyone in the line was quiet as they listened to Harry's gentle words. "If you have to pretend to be something you're not, then it's not worth it. You're the best you that you can be, and people are either going to like you for it, or not."

"B-But my Gran says—"

"She's worried about you, Nev." Harry said, clapping a hand on Neville's shoulder. "But, if she worries about you, that means she loves you very much. No matter what you do or what house you get put in, she'll still love you. She'll love you because you'll do your best, and make her proud by giving it your all!"

Neville stared at Harry for a long pause, even as Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment and began to speak.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. She began with the A's of course.

"Thank you, Harry…" Neville said quietly as Harry looked back at him, flashing a cheesy grin.

"No prob, Norman. Not like any of this matters anyway. You're all getting the short end of the stick on this one."

"How?" Hermione asked in quite curiosity.

"Because all the houses sound like some sort of disease straight from Deep Jungle." Harry said, remembering his short time spent in Tarzan's world.

As time wore on into several minutes, Harry saw that the process of house-picking was rather straightforward and really boring. It took him only watching a few students being sorted to see that the person walked up to the chair, sat down, Professor McGonagall put the Sorting Hat onto their head, and they sat there anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes, before the hat would open its brim-mouth to shout out one of the four house names. By the time the B's had been finished, there had been at least one new student going to each of the four houses, who'd clapped wildly and greeted their new First Years with open arms. Taking a moment to study the people at each of the tables, as they moved rapidly through the rest of the alphabet, he noticed that they all looked expectant and enthusiastic now that the Sorting was well underway.

Well, all except for the table on the far end, under the green and silver serpent banners.

The Slytherins all looked rather pompous and arrogant. Some even appeared just a bit brutish too, he noted. However, he kept his tongue in cheek as he remembered quite hotly that Master Merlin had been a Slytherin. He tried to imagine his kindly old mentor sitting amongst the toerag-looking bunch, but just felt it was even more out of place when compared to their snobbish looks.

Harry turned to Ravenclaw's table. The students there seemed just as pompous, but their arrogance was dulled slightly by intelligence and anxiety shining through their eyes. He could picture Leon and Master Yen Sid sitting amongst their ranks, both with their arms folded as they gave Harry a look that said he'd better join them.

The Gryffindor table seemed like a bit of fun, with wide grins, open smiles, and a bit of an atmosphere that Harry sometimes noticed around kids in Traverse Town or one that hung around DiZ's old world. He could see a person like Cid or even DiZ himself fitting right in with the air of open challenge.

The Hufflepuffs looked the most open, friendly, and overall least hostile of all the tables. They also had a mixed set. Some were smiling just as softly as Aerith did whenever Harry saw her, and some were just as goofy-faced as Yuffie whenever she was given Sea-Salt ice cream or pizza. Harry could tell the two girls in his life would fit in perfectly with the 'Puffs, and that both would probably be widely respected in the house for their opposite, yet complimentary personalities.

Finally, it was time, or rather, Harry noticed one of his new friends getting their name called out.

"Granger, Hermione."

Hermione seem shocked that she was even called, so Harry gave her a little push. She turned back to him, and he gave her a thumbs-up for encouragement.

"Granger, Hermione." Professor McGonagall repeated the name, causing Hermione to jump a little before she ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

Harry chuckled a little as did a few others.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted while Ron silently cheered beside Harry. Harry silently smacked him upside the head while never taking his eyes off Hermione, who rushed to the blue and bronze colored horde which greeted her warmly with many proper handshakes and wishful words of welcome.

The next of Harry's friends was Neville, whose last name got a snicker out of Harry.

Neville almost tripped going up to the stool, but thankfully he only stumbled his way up.

The hat took a long time to decide with Neville.

When it finally shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to a boy named Morag MacDougal. The Hufflepuffs might have laughed, but they all still accepted Neville as though nothing could be better. A few of the girls, partially Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones, even hugged Neville, causing him to blush.

"Ah man, how come Norman's gettin' all the chicks? I'm the awesome one around here." Harry groaned while a dark-skinned boy behind him nodded in sympathy.

Draco swaggered forward, pushing pass Harry and Ron when his name was called. Harry howled in laughter when the hat had barely touched Draco's head before it screamed, almost sounding in disgust for Draco's hair gel, "SLYTHERIN!"

Draco smirked, but seeing Harry doubled over in laughter made him glare at the damnable last of the Potters before he went to join his stooges, Crabbe and Goyle. Even as he glanced annoyingly in Harry's direction, he was still looking quite pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon" went to Ravenclaw. "Nott" and "Parkinson" were both instantly placed in Slytherin trying to worm their way into Draco's good graces. Then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" with one going to Gryffindor and the other to Ravenclaw as Hermione's quick friend. A "Perks, Sally-Anne" went to Ravenclaw as well, and then, at last it was him.

The stern Professor didn't even hesitate or double-take as she read off, "Potter, Harry!" The rest of the Great Hall, however, did not have her steady resolve.

As Harry stepped forward with an obvious pride in himself, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter? Here?"

"Where is he? I can't see him! Where is he?"

"Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, he beat You-Know-Who, Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Potter…"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning over one another to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Hmm… Let's see here," a small voice said. It seemed to echo all around and throughout his head. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes! Plenty of loyalty to those that you hold dear. To friends and teachers who have been loyal to you. And a nice thirst to prove yourself worthy of the fame you have both been given and hope to receive, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"

Harry wasn't entirely sure of an answer to that question. He tried hard to keep what Master Merlin had said in mind, but it was obvious that these new Slytherins were nothing like his friendly old teacher. Yet, he had learned long ago that appearances meant nothing, especially when it came to magic.

"Indeed, Mr. Potter, indeed… However, if you don't make the choice for yourself, it chooses you, whether you want it or not. Still, there's that courage again. You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that. And you'd just grin and bear it wouldn't you? Well, that settles it. With that in hand, and with your fierce loyalty coupled with your drive to protect and help those around you as well as those you hold dear, you've proven yourself to have the true markings of one Godric GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word for the whole hall to hear. He took off the hat, silently thanking it before he completely removed it. He gazed upon the hall as each house politely applauded to his placing, and he gave each house a nod back. While the Slytherins cheers were quiet subdue, the Gryffindors were going wild. As he walked steadily toward his house table, Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Taking a seat next to the other First Years, Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown, Harry looked around and spotted Hermione and Neville still cheering him from their respective tables at Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Even Draco gave a small smirk as he clapped in a slow dramatic fashion.

"Glad it's over, huh mate?" the Finnegan boy said as Harry shrugged.

"I don't know about that. I wanted to do my hat trick, though." Harry replied.

"Ooo, what hat trick?" the Brown girl had turned to him.

"I was gonna pull a rabbit out of the Sorting Hat," Harry shrugged casually with a small grin.

"You should have done it!" one of the twins encouraged, grinning just like Harry.

"Why didn't we think of somethin' like that?" the other said to his mirror-self.

"Don't know," then twin that spoke this looked at Harry, "But we'll just have to learn at the feet of our new Master in the Most Sacred Arts."

Harry grinned. Already he had found himself some kindred spirits.

Harry turned from the others with a grin as though he were in thought. He looked up, and saw that he could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him a meaty thumbs-up. Harry grinned back at him, even while planning to extract his revenge for what Hagrid had unintentionally put him through by not giving them directions onto the Platform for the Hogwarts Express. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts, something which Harry was only slightly surprised by. Jack and his bunch had the effect of inuring a person from fright and surprise when it came to such things as ghosts and ghouls.

There were only three people left, and before too long, Ron and the dark-skinned Dean Thomas were sitting across from Harry. As the last of the sorting was finished, everybody turned expectantly towards the High Table. The teachers themselves, like the students, turned to the high chair at the center especially. Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome, welcome!" he said, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you and tuck in!" he sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not, so he did.

"The Old man's off his rocker… I like it!" Harry said as Percy the Prefect turned to him, having sat beside his brothers.

"Off his rocker?" Percy said airily, "The man's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open with a bit of drool. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, puddings, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint bugs crawled about in golden bowls. Merlin had not mentioned such lavish meals.

"Yes, thank you," he finally managed to utter a response, accepting the dish from the Prefect. "This meal was sent from a higher power, one which knows my stomach's greatest desires. Let us all partake in this banquet, and let nothing go to waste."

The others stared again at Harry for his rather solemn and high-held words. It was almost like a prayer, to which Ron agreed as he and Harry dug into it like animals. All three of his masters would be very displeased with his lack of control and disregard for table manners, but where his stomach was concerned, even his friends and masters knew to never get in the way between Harry and his next meal whenever hunger crept upon him.

Seamus had just found that out.

"Ow! Harry bit me!" the boy clutched his hand, which had a set of teeth marks on it.

"I've never seen someone eat so much meat before in my life…" Lavender was both fascinated and disgusted by what she was seeing.

Harry gulped down a goblet of juice, stopping himself from choking before he went back to tearing into the next steak within range of his fork.

"Blimey, he's worse than Ron, and that is saying something…" Fred said to Percy, who could only stare at the carnage between his youngest brother and Harry Potter.

While Harry devoured a dinner roll, the others took the time to notice that Harry was beginning to slow down on his meal. Finally, with his appetite and hunger slated to reasonably inhumane levels, the rest of the meal was much tamer. Harry spent the time sipping at his goblet while those around him ate as he was supposed to; with some manners, patience, and dignity. Though a few were not completely turned by Harry's eating habits. Some still regarded Harry as a sort of medieval nobleman. And while he entertained them with flashes of his scar, Harry was secretly listening for his other friends at the other tables. He could hear Hermione was going on about stuff she'd read in Hogwarts, A History to her new friend in one of the Patil twins while the Ravenclaw perfect practically gushed with happiness at having the Granger girl. Ron was going on about the wizard sport Quidditch to Seamus and Dean. Lavender was talking gossip with an upperclassmen girl whilst Percy idly chatted about the school rules to another Gryffindor perfect. The Twins were coming up with pranks to pull over the course of the year, asking Harry's approval. Neville was warming up quickly to his housemates, if his smile and pleasant expression were anything to go by while he conversed with other Hufflepuffs. Draco looked rather bored with the girl and boy, Parkinson and Nott, who were talking to him, but seemed at peace with them as he spoke every now and then.

The only sour note was when his scar started to throb before giving him a sharp jolt just before the dessert course, which Harry of course saved room for.

He'd been looking up at the High Table, and trying to remember all the Professors' faces and trying to guess which adult taught which subject. He'd been looking at the purple turban on the head of Professor Quirrell wondering if the man might have come looking for him from Agrabah, when the pain flared into existence. When it gave him the sharp prick, he winced and rubbed it, but went back to eating when dessert was present. After eating his dessert, though this time with far greater presentation, he went back to his inspection of the Professors. Severus Snape sat next to Professor Quirrell. He stared at Harry, as though wondering what Harry would do next. Honestly, if the man expected Harry to actually address the fact that they were forcibly made master and servant by his mother right then in the middle of a meal, he would be sorely mistaken. Shrugging, he didn't bother looking back again. If Snape wanted something of him, then the man could use the free will he still had and simply ask like any other person.

Harry could hear Hermione move into a conversation with the Ravenclaw perfect, both speaking animatedly and happily about the curriculum. Harry was sure Hermione had found her home with the rest of the brains. Looking over at the Hufflepuff table, yet still not close enough to hear, Harry watched as Neville talked with the girls Susan and Hannah about something which made them hug him once more. Harry's eye twitched.

Neville Longbottom was now his eternally rival for female affection, and Harry swore he would not lose. He swore it!

Draco looked to now be enjoying his dessert portion of the meal along with Nott, Parkinson, and another boy, this one with dark-skin and low cut dark hair. Harry watched as the dark-skinned boy not unlike Dean Thomas made Draco scoff at something before Draco looked over in his direction. Draco shot him a scathing look, but it failed when he and the dark-skinned boy across from him stuck their tongues out. Tongues that had turned white with vanilla ice cream.

Ron was still talking Quidditch, though this time with his brothers Percy and the twins. Harry smiled at the family display, and turned away so as not to interrupt it.

At last, the desserts too disappeared much to Harry's inner disappointment, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell immediately silent.

"Ahem, just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First Years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did. "That's crazy! I like this guy. But he can't be serious, right? I mean, we live in a school."

"He must be," Percy muttered after overhearing Harry's words with Ron. Harry and Ron looked to him, seeing his prominent frown. "It's rather odd, especially when he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere; the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

After this rather mysterious urging, Dumbledore smiled widely while he had everyone sing the school song, telling them to pick their own tune, before casting out the words magically for all to read from. Great as it was seeing magic of this scale, Harry felt a bit silly and rushed through the words in a fast-paced almost rappish-speed while thinking of a dear old friend.

Finally, they were allowed to leave and were sent off to bed. The Gryffindor First Years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry watched as Hermione and the Ravenclaws took off toward another while Neville and the Hufflepuff were directed down some steps and off into a corridor. Draco and the Slytherins were led down into what Harry could only assume was the bottom of the castle, the dungeons as Merlin had referred to it once.

Watching his new friends go, Harry felt his legs grow heavy with each step in the opposite direction of them as they were all taken their separate ways. And though he was sad by the separation so soon after meeting them all, Ron and his new housemates were good company and great companions as Harry was finding out. Ron and his brothers were even nice enough to catch Dean and Seamus once the two had fainted from the shock of seeing the portraits along the corridors whispering and pointing as they passed. While greatly surprised by this, Harry knew that an entire world of filled with this special brand of magic was going to be far more breathtaking than it simply was now.

Being guided through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries, Percy led the way as they climbed more staircases, most now so tired they were yawning and dragging their feet. Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came onto a portrait of a very fa— err, stout woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she intoned in a velvety tone.

"Caput Draconis," Percy uttered, and with that the portrait swung forward to reveal a round well-carved hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it, Dean and Seamus being carried as they fell out once more upon seeing the woman's painting swing forth. Harry did the gentlemanly thing and helped Lavender and Parvati over the rise into the room. Turning from the giggling girls as he stood to help more ladies in like a proper and suave young man, Harry was in awe as he found himself in what could only be the Gryffindor common room. It was a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase, they were obviously in one of the towers, and they found their beds at last: four four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. As much as Harry wanted to pal around with his new roommates, Ron was too tired to talk much after they dropped Seamus and Dean into their assigned beds. So with that, Harry had no choice but to pull off his uniform, strip down to his adorable Moogle boxers, and fall into bed for sleep to whisk him away.

The next day had Harry at a complete lost.

Because he and Ron were completely lost…

"You sleep like a log, man…" Harry muttered as he and Ron wandered down yet another corridor.

"Sorry, mate. I think it was all that good food last night." Ron apologized, rubbing his stomach as he recalled the delicious meal.

"Yeah, that feast was mouthwatering…" Harry reasoned as they wandered onward.

To begin with, the two were lost after Harry tried for half an hour to wake Ron out of his beastly slumber. Their first class was Transfiguration with the stern witch McGonagall, but as much as Harry wanted to kick butt in the subject, he couldn't even arrive at class.

"Where are we again?" Harry asked Ron, who looked around.

"I think we're on the third floor." Ron said, not sure exactly.

"Then we just need to go down to the first floor." Harry declared, pointing to stairs as he saw them.

Even after arriving on the first floor, Harry had no clue where the Transfiguration class was held. But he reasoned that if they went to the Great Hall, where he hoped food would still be, then he'd be able to find someone there to help them.

All they found there was a barren hall and a strangely happy Professor Dumbledore.

"Ah, boys, good morning!" the old man greeted warmly, "You've just missed the last of the flumberry pancakes. But alas, I've some Sherbet Lemon Drops, if you'd like."

"No thanks," Harry and Ron echoed glumly, their faces full of gloom at the thought of having missed a meal. A free feast of breakfast…gone…

"Then would you mind if this old man inquired as to why you're not in class now?" Dumbledore tilted his head curiously, "If I'm not mistaken, you boys should be attending your Head of House, Professor McGonagall's First Year Transfiguration class at the moment."

"Yeah, but we got lost, sir." Ron said dejectedly, his head bowed, "It's all my fault…"

Headmaster Dumbledore laughed at them. He laughed so loud and suddenly that the two eleven year-olds jerked back from the sudden noise.

"Excuse me, lads. It's just that, in my elder age and long life here in the castle, I've forgotten what it's like to be lost within its more trot-worn halls. Please, follow me." and with that, the queerest person Harry had come to meet led the way for them as he continued to talk.

"That isn't to say that I don't still lose my way in here. Why, just the other night I was doing a bit of pacing up on the seventh floor, and just when I was thinking that I needed a good romance novel to rest my weary mind with, there appeared a door with far more of the books then I could ever hope to read it what's left of my lifetime." Dumbledore prattled on while Harry only half-listened. He got the feeling the old dude was just making things up so they looked a little less stupid.

Ron, however, listened avidly to the wizened wizard's every word.

"Do remind me that for next year, we hand out schedules and the like to students before the Prefects are to lead them down for breakfast and classes. Maybe we should put them in students' trunks… Hmm, yes, that's ticket…" the old professor muttered while he turned a corner.

"Ah! Here we are boys!" Dumbledore said gladly, arms wide as he presented the classroom, "And you're in luck. You're only fifteen minutes late! Well, off you trot. Don't want to be twenty minutes late. Oh no. I remember the dear professor gave even me detention that time…" he walked away from them, still talking brightly with himself, "Oh yes! Dear Professor McGonagall said I was too long-winded and told too many tales of days passed. Which reminds me of yet another tale. This one's about a pet I had back when I was your age. You see, we named it Salty, which was ironic given its…"

Whatever that was about, Harry was glad Dumbledore had wondered out of earshot before he could hear anymore. Nevermind the fact that Harry could feel the man's magical power hidden deep within him due to their close proximity. It was almost at the level of Master Merlin's power and Master Yen Sid's own powers.

"But that doesn't stop the old guy from being just plain goofy…" Harry muttered, turning back to the classroom door while Ron strained to hear the rest of Dumbledore's tale from the corner. "Come on." Harry grabbed his friend by the back of his robes.

"But I wanted to hear more about Salty!" Harry hauled a whining Ron Weasley into the class.

Transfiguration class was taught by Professor McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor House. It was a class to be shared by only their fellow First Year Gryffindors. As Harry and Ron entered the class, all was quiet while their fellow First years watched them burst into the room while shocked and surprised looks.

"Hey, sorry we're late." Harry said as he and Ron moved further into the class in search of the teacher.

She was nowhere in sight. Only a tabby cat resting on her desk seemed interested in their arrival.

"Whoa, we must've just made it." Ron breathed easily, but Harry got the feeling they weren't so lucky. "I mean, could you have imagined the look on McGonagall's face if she'd caught us late for the first class of the first day of our first year?"

The tabby cat leapt from the desk, but before it landed on the floor it had transformed into the stern looking Transfigurations teacher. "Might it look something like this, Mister Weasley?" she said with a look of displeasure on her face.

"Me-wow…" Harry muttered as his eyes were wide with surprise.

"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron blurted out as he stood next to Harry with the same look of shock.

"Thank you for that assessment, Mister Weasley. Perhaps I should transfigure you or Mister Potter into a pocket watch, that way at least one of you would be able to tell time." came her reply.

"Sorry," Harry rubbed at the back of his neck, "we got lost. This place is pretty big."

"Perhaps a map then? I trust you won't require one to find a seat," McGonagall said as Ron moved, but Harry didn't.

"Now hold on, Professor. You have to admit that this happens more often than." Harry said boldly, to which the other students sucked in breath at his backtalk.

"Mister Potter, I never said it did not." she narrowed her eyes at him while her lips thinned.

"I didn't say you did. All I'm saying is to admit it." Harry spoke softly, appealing to the woman as one might for getting a loan of money.

"I am," McGonagall raised her head an inch, staring him down, "which is why I've not punished you yet. I do not expect First Year students to be able to navigate the hallowed halls of this esteemed castle on the first few days. In fact, I make especial care to see to it that by the first twenty minutes of class everyone is here. If not, I search them out myself. Now please, a seat, Mister Potter. We're wasting time."

"Alright then," Harry relented for the moment, taking the offered seat Ron patted down for him.

"Now then, with that out of the way, I'd like to again welcome you all to Hogwarts and this, your first class; Transfiguration. Transfiguration is some of the most complex and difficult magic you will learn here at Hogwarts. There will be no fooling around or goofing about in this class. Any student who does so will be asked not to come back." she allowed that to sink in before she stepped to the side of her desk and turned it into a pig and back again with a wave of her wand.

They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started! Amazed as they were, none were more so than Harry, who knew with all his training how difficult the simple-looking spell was to accomplish and master. Turning inanimate objects into living creatures was high level magic. Something no one could do without many years of honing and expertise.

He himself was a natural when it came to Transfiguration magic. Even still, his masters didn't want him attempting such high level stuff so casually until he had a few more years of expertise under his belt.

As excitement built in them, the others soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time, as Harry knew. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and were instructed to begin their attempts at turning the matchsticks into needles.

Only one was successful.

Harry looked around to his fellow dormmates. He saw that he was the only one to succeed, having done the simple magic with a wave of his wand. Professor McGonagall was impressed, deeply so. She showed the class how his match had turned completely. How it had gotten all silver and pointy. The woman even went as far as to poke at her finger, where a droplet of blood oozed out. Even as she healed the tiny prick with a dap of some form of colorless liquid, McGonagall gave Harry a smile, and he knew they were rare indeed when the next second she was ordering everyone back to work.

She said that he'd have no homework. Harry, without being asked, turned around and about in his seat as he helped the other Gryffindors. First he helped Ron, who by the end of the lesson had finally managed to make the needle. Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, by the end of the first lesson, had gotten the wood of the match to turn to metal. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, even with Harry's tutoring, only got the match to turn pointy with a somewhat silvery color. They seemed to be too distracted by his eyes or something like that, asking if his irises were emerald or jade in color. Harry couldn't answer that for them and felt uncomfortable that they asked while staring at him like a piece of meat. Still, Professor McGonagall gave the class five points for the Gryffindor house and a smile as they filed out of her class at the end of their first lesson.

The next class was out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, which was like plant-sitting in DiZ's garden. The teacher was a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, also the Head of the Hufflepuff house. She said they'd learn how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and find out what they were used for. She was a mostly hands-on teacher who didn't shrink away from getting her hands dirty with actual dirt. Lavender and Parvati near fainted when they found a worm in their pot of soil. Seamus and Dean were daring each other to eat it all throughout class. Harry and Ron ended up especially messy when they got into a dirt-fight toward the end of class. Professor Sprout, however, merely laughed them off before waving her wand to clean them. Then they were sent on their way to the next class.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Harry had always found ghosts to be especially cool. He thought there could never be a dull ghost, but Professor Binns had easily and quite effectively killed off that belief for Harry. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Next was Charms with Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher. He was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. Harry immediately worried for the little man and shot out of his seat to help him up. The tiny Professor waved him off with a squeaky sort of laughter and began the first lesson. Charms, Harry found out, was just as easy for him as Transfiguration had been. Professor Flitwick was easily excited and more than willing to go on all day about Harry's exceptional wandwork and Harry's kindness when the young wizard turned to help his classmates. More house points were rewarded to the Gryffindor dorm.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Professor Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke to the young wizards. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnegan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry was more than a little annoyed to find that he wasn't miles ahead of the others. While he was quickly taking the title of most talented, even he didn't have much of a head start in subjects like Herbology, Astronomy, and Defense Against the Dark Arts because of how different the classes were compared to the way he was taught by his mentors. The plants were different and foreign, but Harry still knew stem from leaf. The stars were in the wrong places, but he could still identify some of the most common constellations. And Defense was just plain odd as they were taught from books instead of any sort of combat practice like Harry had hoped.

Even still, it was a relief to many of the non-magical kids, the Muggle-born and Muggle-raised. Before they hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards, but here at Hogwarts there was so much to learn that even people like Ron and Draco, the ones raised all their lives in the magical community, didn't have much of an advantage over anyone. The only person who seemed to separate themselves from the pack was Harry himself, and even he just barely held an edge with Hermione and Draco not far behind.

Hermione was always in the library with her fellow Ravenclaw housemates. Draco was always in the dungeons with his Slytherin cronies. Harry and Ron were up in the Gryffindor dorms practicing and having laughs with the first years. Neville was making friends and being friendly with the other Hufflepuff. Over the course of the first week, they passed each and every one once in a while, sharing smiles as they went passed one another in corridors or when they entered and exited the library at random hours.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"We're awesome!" Harry and Ron high-fived each other as they entered the Great Hall. Draco scoffed behind them as Neville chuckled a little. Hermione was turning to them as they came into the hall.

"It took you a week!?" she exclaimed as they told her why they were so hyped. "Ravenclaws had it on the second day." again Draco scoffed.

"Only the rustic likes of you all need to find your way. We of the higher breed need not find our way; we instinctively know. Isn't that right, Longbottom?" Draco said with an arrogant and haughty tone as he turned to Neville, who colored at being addressed as Draco's equal in status.

"Umm, y-yeah… I guess so…" Neville was nervous and that much showed. Draco sneered at him before turning his nose up to even Neville since the boy was so much of a wimp. Harry clapped Neville on the shoulder with a good-natured laugh. Neville smiled shakily. He liked hanging out with Harry, who disarmed his nervous nature with his easy-going and earthly behavior.

"Don't worry about Drake, Norman." Harry smiled brightly as he wrapped an arm around Neville's shoulder, "He's just mad 'cause his daddy still hasn't smuggled him a broom into the school yet."

Draco shrugged casually, "Your right, I am mad about that little tidbit." the blond admitted freely before walking off toward the Slytherin table with his nose still high in the air.

"Now I see where he gets that from… So, Draco is a wittle-bitty Momma's boy, huh?" Harry muttered under his breath as he recalled the way Draco's mother, Narcissa, had her own nose high like she was stiffing something foul. Though Draco managed to look less disgusted and more arrogant than his mother in that aspect.

"What have you all got today?" Hermione asked eagerly as she turned to them.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron answered in a groan as he read his schedule from a piece of parchment. "Snape's the Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them— we'll be able to see if it's true."

"I don't think it is," Hermione said with a shake of her head. Her bushy hair wobbled in place. "Neville and I had him earlier this week. He seemed equally nasty to all the students, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs."

"Its true…" Neville mumbled, his head now cast down in shame. "He gave most of us in Hufflepuff zero marks until the Ravenclaws started secretly helping us. Thanks again, Hermione."

"It was our pleasure, Neville." she smiled at him, then looked up at Harry and Ron, "Be sure not to say anything stupid. I don't think he has much a sense of humor."

"Gotcha. Roger that, Hilary!" Harry gave her a thumbs up and Hermione didn't even bother with his getting her name wrong before she went her own way to the Ravenclaw table where Padma immediately began questioning her about hanging out with Potter, Malfoy and Longbottom. The girl, while brainy and quick-witted, still shared gossip with her sister. Padma apparently thought the three boys were "dreamy" and wanted to know how Hermione had become such fast friends with them. Hermione could only tell her it was because Harry drew in people who could take the mental abuse his shenanigans entailed.

"She thinks the world of her brains just because she's in Ravenclaw." Ron frowned after Hermione, who kept looking back at them with Padma while giggling girlishly. "You and Neville are pretty smart, but at least you guys don't flaunt it the way she does."

Neville's face flushed at Ron thinking him smart, especially when he thought Ron was smarter and a better wizard.

"You're seeing stuff that isn't there. Just give her a chance." Harry said, decking Ron lightly in the arm. "Now come on, breakfast is on, and I needs food!"

"See ya, Nermal!" Harry shouted behind him, and Ron too gave his departing words to Neville as they parted ways, the two going to Gryffindor where their fellow housemates made sure to give them wide berth as they scarfed down tons of edibles. Neville went to the Hufflepuff table, where Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones hugged Neville for making more friends, especially those outside of Hufflepuff.

"He's still getting on with the babes!?" Harry's shock and rage was muffled by the food that stuff his cheeks. He would have choked if he didn't value food over his annoyed mood. Again Neville was escalated up his list of rivals.

He'd win this war! The hearts of women everywhere was on the line!

Just then, the mail arrived. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

"Oye! Watch the food this time, you little rats with wings!" Harry bellowed while shaking a fist at the owls. One purposely dropped a parcel into the porridge that Ron was reaching for. Ron bemoaned the loss of perfectly good food.

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate. Harry groaned at her doing so, but she merely fluttered her wings and stole his toast.

"No fair…" he whined as he took the note from out of his sausage and eggs. He tore it open at once.

It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Harry,

I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three?

I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

Harry beamed, before snatching a quill from Lavender to quickly scribble his reply. Giving the quill back to her with a flirty wink that made the girl blush, Harry sent Hedwig off again with the note now saying: "Yes, please. See you later," on the back.

"Ron, time to plot my revenge. My ponderings are afoot." Harry said with a wicked grin.

"Hmm?" Ron looked up questioningly from where he was shoveling bacon onto his plate with a slice sticking out from his mouth.

Even before the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Snape disliked him. It wasn't hard to see when the man basically sneered and sulked about everything, especially how he was effectively Harry's slave as long as that Heart's Mark was branded to him.

Lessons for the Potions class took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder there than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls of the class.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity."

"Hear that, guys. I'm already really awesome and famous at school," Harry whispered to Draco, who sat directly in front of him and Ron, who sat directly beside him. Draco and his goons, Crabbe and Goyle, sniggered behind their hands at Harry's boyish candor. Snape merely scowled as he finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's own, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. No, Snape's eyes were cold and empty, like dark tunnels from which no warmth escaped.

"You children are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Snape began, speaking in what was barely more than a whisper. That was no problem as the class caught every word in their hushed silence. Much like Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…" here Snape came from behind the podium he was standing at and made his way in front of it. His dark robes flared out briefly when he came to a stop, making Harry think of vampires and other horror movies he had seen with Leon and the rest of their gang. "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper on death… That is, if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Harry had been at the edge of his seat from how spellbinding Snape's words had been. At least until the end, where Harry's face fell at the unimpressive closing of said speech.

"A great speech ruined by a man's inability to stop being snarky…" Harry said flatly, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Potter!" Snape suddenly snapped his attention to Harry when his ears caught the young Potter's words. However, unlike Draco and Ron, Snape was not amused. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I'm sorry, powdered root of what to an infusion of what?" Harry asked before he glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was.

"Powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Snape snarled, "And take care, Potter, because I shall not repeat myself again within this classroom."

"Oh, okay." Harry kicked back and placed his feet up on the desk, "Well, with that mixture, you'd get a sleeping potion."

"Name, Potter. What is the potion's name!" Snape's face contorted in barely restrained annoyance.

"Hmm… what was it's name? Umm… I think it was called the Draught of something. Not sure." Harry shrugged, but then it clicked it him. "Wait, I remembered now! Master Yen Sid drilled me with this one! It's Draught of Living Death when wormwood and asphodel is on the breath."

Snape did not looked to be impressed. "A cute rhyme, as I am sure, Potter." Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Now then, shall we see if fame is everything? Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"A goat's stomach!" Harry stood up and pointed a finger into the dank air of the dungeon classroom. The only light in the class came from the single high up window that was so dust-covered that it might as well have been cloaked with a sheet. "I needed to get one for a friend back in Agrabah. Those desert scorpions are really nasty."

Snape crossed his arms, leaning back on the podium behind him while narrowing his dark eyes on Harry. "And what is the function of a bezoar, Potter?"

"Well, if swallowed it can save a dude from a bunch of the more common poisons and a few of the really bad ones."

"Glad that you at least decided to crack open your textbook in the last ten years." Snape sneered while Harry chuckled. Really, he found Snape more amusing that threatening.

"Come on, Sev, you can't honestly expect me or my classmates to remember everything out of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, can you?" Harry rubbed the back of his neck with a candid smile.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape arched a single brow delicately, but the rest of his face was drawn in a mask of indifference.

"Objection!" Harry startled his classmates by slamming a fist to the table. "That's a trick question! They're the same thing! Just different parts of the same plant that can go by either name!"

A few people laughed at Harry's courtroom antics. Seamus and Dean were in stitches as Seamus banged a text to the table like a gavel. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Be silent!" he spoke at a level tone, but it was like a roar to them in comparison to how quiet and somber he was moments beforehand. They had never heard Snape's voice raise so mightily, and it served to settle them all. "Clearly your fame has gone to your head, Potter, as you have forgotten that the plant also goes by the name of aconite. Do not attempt to play chess with the masters if you've only just risen from the rank of novice." then Snape's dark eyes flitted around the class, taking in everyone's faces. "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down? Not a moment is wasted in this class, and everything said is of grave importance. Or must I constantly hold your hands for every little thing over the next seven years?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And twenty points will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek and flash… Mister Potter."

Harry was still unperturbed as he waved merrily, "Thanks, Sev!"

"Another forty, Potter!"

Harry found that the lesson only marginally improved for his class as it continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion which would cure boils. He swept around in his long black robes, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Draco, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon.

"Tut, tut, Sev," Harry said with a shake of his head when Snape had passed up Draco to tear into Lavender and Dean, "You could at least be subtle about your blatant favoritism."

"I'll handle my class the way I see fit, Potter. And that will be another twenty points from your house." Seamus was cracking up over the points lost, but Parvati was kicking Harry under the table for each point taken. Ron, working with Seamus, was accidentally kicked once and had ruined the first drafts of their horned slugs.

"Watch what you're doing, dude!" Harry exclaimed, all traces of boyish attitude gone once he saw Seamus and Ron's work turning to hell in a hand basket. Trying to hurry along in order to catch up to the others, Seamus thought it was prudent to simply throw all the ingredient into the cauldron and stir.

Honestly, Harry should have expected such. Seamus, despite his mother being a witch, probably knew next to nothing about the work that went into potions. Harry had spent the last few years working with potions under the careful eagle-eyed watch of his masters. Even DiZ and Merlin, both who were known for a much more lax environment of teaching, were on constant vigilance when it came to potions. When Harry was six, all three masters had spent a long time drilling into him that potion making took exact measurements, precise ingredients, and accurate follow through. The first year of work was teaching Harry the proper methods of how to handle the situation if things went work. It was one of the only times that Harry learned actual spells and charms from his masters instead of just "the feel of magic" and "the flow of energies". No, when it came to things that could leave him without a face, even Master Merlin threw the lessons about the texture and saturation of magical energy out the window in order to show Harry the proper spell for if a potion turns out to be blue and burning polka-dotted smoke.

So it was of little surprise that Harry leapt back and away when Seamus's cauldron had melted into a twisted blob, and his stew of a potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in their classmates' shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Seamus and Ron, who had been drenched by the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

Harry completely forgot about his wand when he thrust out a hand at bubbling mass of liquid on the floor. With the twisted motion of his wrist and hand, the potion followed as it twisted and hissed, but then twirled in a spiraling pattern while Harry made it disappear from the floor and into thin air. Then he set his attention to the cauldron, but his focus was broken. Snape had finally got around to their side of the scene.

"Idiot boy!" the Potions Master snarled, clearing the spilled potion that remained in the pot away with a single wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Seamus was a whimpering mess as the boils started to pop up all over his nose. Harry went back to fixing the cauldron and cleaning up any other spills that might have escaped their notice.

"Take them up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Dean and Lavender before he rounded on Harry and Parvati, who had been working next to Seamus and Ron.

"And you, boy, why didn't you tell him not to just dump everything into the cauldron? This isn't fruit punch, it is dangerous! Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you?"

"No! We're eleven, man! What did you expect from a room full of kids with no comprehension of how bad potions can get!? It was an impatient accident! They tend to happen!" Harry argued back, but then he and Snape turned to the scoffing Draco.

"Please, Potter, don't lump all of us with the likes of you half-witted Gryffindors. Some of us happen to know that rules and instructions are to be followed for a reason."

"Oh shut up, Draco!" Harry spat back at the blond before he and Snape resumed their glaring match.

"I should have expect no less from a Potter!" Snape's sneer was laced with absolute venom. "Another twenty points from Gryffindor. And rest assured that the next time you and your merry band of the little Marauders wish to have a laugh in my classroom, I'll not be allowing them to the hospital wing or a return back into this classroom. EVER!"

"That's not fair, sir. Harry didn't know what Seamus would do!" Parvati exclaimed in Harry's defense, but Snape was hearing none of it.

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. It had all started out so well. Sure Snape had been discourteous at first, but when they began the practical half of class, it appeared like Snape was actually beginning to warm up to Harry. But then whole fiasco with Seamus and Ron looked to have left Snape disappointed in Harry. And it might have been Harry's imagination, but it was like Snape was more disappointed in something else than in Harry himself.

Also, what the hell was with Snape calling his friends the little Marauders?

"Cheer up," Ron was now back from the hospital wing and boil-free, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"

At five to three o'clock, Harry led the way out of the castle with Ron and Neville behind him. Hermione was whisked away by her fellow Ravenclaws to a study group, and Draco had already made the mistake of insulting Hagrid previously that evening, so Harry took back his invite to the blond. That didn't sit well with the Malfoy heir, but Harry didn't care. If Draco couldn't control himself, he'd be treated like a spoiled child under Master Yen Sid's care. Meaning that if Draco acted up, he'd be grounded to his room in the Slytherin dorms.

"Harry, mate, you've got to teach me that locking charm!" Ron looked ecstatic, like Christmas had come early this year for him.

They made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

"Draco looked really cross with you, Harry," Neville had never seen fury the likes of which the Malfoy scion produced, "Are you sure it was okay for us to stuff him in his room like that? He's gonna come after us when his housemates let him out."

"Yeah," Harry shrugged, "but that's only if they can undo it. It'll take a few hours for them to work it out, and by then we should all be in the clear." Harry knocked on the thick wood door. They heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang! Back."

"And it begins," Harry smirked, throwing his cloak over himself in swish of the material.

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said, "Back, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. Then, looking to his guests, Hagrid's face quickly drained of color and he fainted with a cry for his mommy. Neville and Ron didn't look much better, but were calmed when Harry took off his cloak and began laughing as he pointed down at the fainted half-giant.

"That's for abandoning me with no idea of how to get onto the train!" Harry shouted down at Hagrid, stepping up on the man's chest like a conqueror, "Don't mess with the best!"

When Hagrid awoke and Harry explained his prank of using his cloak to give himself the image he had transformed into, Hagrid sat heavily in his chair. While Hagrid rubbed his temples and calmed his nerves, Fang was busy trying to lick Ron and Neville's ears clean off. When the hound approached him, the three other males of the room were amazed with how quickly Harry had Fang belly up and enjoying a good scratch behind the ears.

Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Robert and Noah," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Ronald and Neville, Harry," Neville corrected, but then Ron scowled and crossed his arms.

"Just call me Ron, Neville," Ron said tightly, as though he hated his full first name.

"Another Weasley, eh?" Hagrid spoke as he glanced at Ron's freckles, "I spent half me life chasin' yer brothers away from the forest. Whole pack of 'em love danger. Hope yer different."

Aside from Harry's gruesome transformation prank, the rest of their visit was very pleasant. Hagrid served tea and rock cakes as they passed the time talking about how classes were going, bad-mouthed the Caretaker, Filch and his cat Mrs. Norris. Harry mentioned the Potions lesson they'd just left, and Neville seemed to ease out of his shell in order to ask Hagrid a few questions about what to expect out of Hogwarts in general. Ron asked questions about what his brothers had been like during their years in the school. Then Harry found the newspaper article about a break-in at Gringotts. It had happened on his birthday, the very day he, Hagrid, and Master Merlin went into the bank.

After that point, the conversation quickly soured, as Harry would bet the charm bracelet he never took off that Hagrid was clearly hiding something, but he had little evidence as to what. Finally, the trio of boys left as it was time to go to dinner and they still had to wash up and everything.

"POTTER! WHERE THE DEVIL ARE YOU?! POTTER!" Harry gulped as he made a bee line for the Gryffindor tower in order to escape the wraith of one very upset Draco Malfoy.

In his run, Harry sighed in disappointment. It looked like he'd be missing another feast of a meal the castle had to offer. How sad…

"POTTER! I SEE YOU THERE! DON'T RUN FROM ME, YOU COWARD! TAKE YOUR HEXES LIKE A MAN! POTTER, GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT! I WILL NOT BE DENIED MY PROPER RETRIBUTION! POTTER!"

Yes, quite sad indeed…

"You'll never take me alive, Derrick!"

But also quite fun…