11.

The moment I left my dormitory next day, the whispers began. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a good look at me, or doubled back to pass me again in the corridors, staring. The bolder ones still asked for pictures and autographs. I wished they wouldn't bother me so much, because I was trying to concentrate on finding my way to my classes. I gave everybody politeness enough, and I kept my calm, but in reality it was rather irritating.

Hogwarts was an incredibly complex place to navigate even for a student. Between all the staircases and the corridors, the trick stairs, the staircases that led somewhere different depending on what day of the week it was, the doors that wouldn't open unless you did the right set of actions, the doors that weren't really doors at all but instead were solid walls just pretending… It was a nightmare. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other. The coats of armor could talk. Nothing stayed in one place for very long. And the hundreds of messenger owls suddenly streaming through the Great Hall in the mornings at breakfast was always a bit of a shock (though I had to admit, the free wifi was excellent and I quickly exchanged virtual information with all my new friends, older and younger alike).

A few things saved me. First, The Grey Lady - who never spoke to anybody outside Ravenclaw Tower - silently glided along, leading the Ravenclaw first years to their lessons. She became my good friend after I told her she was very pretty, and very nice for helping us all out like that - she favored me with a rare, silent smile. And second, the Slytherin first years all moved together as one unit, with the older Slytherins making it their prime mission in life to help the first years get to their classes on time. Once you were a Slytherin, you were a member of a very small and intimate family. Slytherins never had to worry about Peeves the Poltergeist, a floating little man with wicked dark eyes, playing tricks on them either. Peeves tried to sneak up behind me once and The Bloody Baron appeared suddenly, rising up before him, howling so fiercely that Peeves screeched and whizzed away.

"Thank you, sir," I said quietly, the other Slytherin first years behind me too afraid to speak.

The Blood Baron became quiet again; he looked down at me and nodded. "Just do well in classes," was all he said in a hoarse whisper.

Both houses on the whole were actually very supportive. I did indeed meet many Ravenclaws as we all gathered around the common room door, trying to figure out the latest riddle together. It became fun, a kind of collective puzzle.

So while Filch the caretaker, a bitter old man with bulging, lamp-like eyes and a nasty skinny little cat, and Peeves the Poltergeist were floating around, I didn't really have any serious run-ins with either of them. And the giant groundskeeper Hagrid turned out to be friendly enough unless you went close to the Forbidden Forest or tried to swim in the Black Lake. Which I didn't. I'd seen the size of some of the things floating around in the Black Lake, and if the Forbidden Forest could boast equally frightening creatures, I had no desire to go near it.

I did have classes with both houses that first week. I made friends in each house. Daphne, Blaise, and Theo became my closest friends in Slytherin, while Terry, Anthony, and Padma became my closest friends in Ravenclaw. I also did genuinely talk with both house ghosts, wanting to know more about what it was like being a member of the living dead, and they seemed both surprised and flattered by my interest and by the fact that I wasn't intimidated by them. They, like Robert Hilliard, gave me tips on how to thrive in classes my first week.

I had seven classes to start out with in my first year. There was Astronomy - we studied the night skies through our telescopes every Wednesday at midnight from the top of the tallest tower, our telescopes magically magnified so we could see incredible astronomical phenomena. Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, was a quiet dark-skinned woman, quite young for a professor. Three times a week we went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, learning the names and uses of magical plants. Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, was a plump, cheerful little witch with wild grey hair and dirt underneath her fingernails.

History of Magic was appropriately enough taught by a droning old ghost named Professor Binns. He had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire one evening and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Some students whispered that he had no idea he was dead - "Maybe he just thinks he's lived a very long time!" - but no one had the heart to tell him. He somehow managed to make even the most fascinating history lessons seem deadly dull, and his was a heavily edited version of magical history with the obvious influence of the Ministry behind it.

Professor Flitwick was the Charms teacher - he taught the art of changing the properties of objects and beings using wand magic. He was very excited to have me in his house and his class, and made a huge effort from the beginning to reach out and be there for me. He took out a tin of cupcakes from his desk and beamed, making them dance for me, on the morning before my first class, and he had a habit of squeaking excitedly. He was literally the most cuddly person you could possibly think of.

Professor McGonagall of course taught Transfiguration, the art of using wand magic to transform some things into other things, and she was stern and strict. She changed her desk into a pig and back again in our first class to impress upon us the sheer scope of what Transfiguration magic could do. Her class was intellectual, clever, and complex.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught by a thin, turbaned, nervous, pale, stuttering man called Professor Quirrell, who stammered through even pre written speeches, seemed afraid of his own shadow, and smelled strongly of garlic. Needless to say, we were somewhat skeptical he would be able to teach us the ins and outs of hexes, jinxes, curses, and dark creatures. Student rumor had it Professor Quirrell didn't always used to be that way - he went out traveling and discovering himself for a year and met a vampire in the Black Forest and a nasty group of hags. He came back terrified of pretty much everything. No one knew anything about the turban, which made his small head look extremely absurd, and Gryffindors, the only ones either tactless or brave enough to ask, reported that he changed the story of how he had gotten it each time he was asked.

I was determined to do well starting out, working very hard at it, and to my pleasure I was at the top of my class. Slytherins expected greatness and supported each other toward that end goal, and Ravenclaws raced each other for the best grades but also gave each other lots of scholarly advice. And of course I had great drive and had gotten loads of help over the summer. Poppy had been right - magic, once sensed out, was a physical exercise, one that came naturally to me if I practiced at it tirelessly enough times. And my reading helped my academic grades a lot.

Flying lessons with Madam Hooch on the school brooms - which I was very much looking forward to - unfortunately didn't usually start until the second or third week. So soon enough, the only class I hadn't taken was Potions with Professor Snape.

I signed up for school activities, mainly music and art. Flitwick headed both extracurricular activities, and seemed excited by my charcoal coffee house drawing style and by my emphasis in piano, violin, and voice. "We'll get you an expert in both subjects and animating your drawings in no time at all, Quintus!" he squeaked. Flitwick was a very relaxed, freeform teacher, perfect for the arts.

I also explored the castle and grounds with my extended group of friends - both Ravenclaw and Slytherin; they got to know each other - during our free time on my first week, and I had my first Inter-House luncheon that first week. Inter-House luncheons were potlucks thrown together in an empty classroom, so that all of the Hatstall students could mingle and converse with one another. They took me under their wing.

"Your fellow house mates trust you a bit less at first," one younger student confirmed for me. "But if you work hard at becoming one of them, they'll accept you." She nodded as I relaxed in relief.

There were of course dormitory fights right from the beginning. Theo, Draco, and Blaise most decidedly did not get along - Theo and Blaise found Draco grating, while Draco had the humongous Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle on his side. Meanwhile in Ravenclaw, Kevin Entwhistle snored and Michael Corner, a light sleeper, soon took to openly picking fights with him, intimidating Kevin who was a much quieter, nerdier sort of person.

I had my first meeting with Madam Pomfrey for therapy in the school infirmary that week. The infirmary was a long room filled with white hospital beds, nothing remarkable, but Madam Pomfrey's office was where we had therapy. I tried to keep my therapy a secret, because Draco Malfoy seemed to resent me - I'd usurped his place on the throne, so to speak - and he had enough ammunition on me already.

Poppy and I discussed how I was adjusting during my first week, my fears neither house completely trust me, and my fears of not doing well at wizarding school. We tried to work on those subjects together. It was a painful session, but I felt better after it was over.

And at last, on Friday after breakfast, Slytherins had Potions with the Gryffindors.

The Potions classroom took place down in one of the dungeons. Hundreds of glittering vials of liquid lined the walls, stray cauldrons bubbled and sizzled over fires, and there were pickled animals floating in glass jars all along the walls.

Professor Snape paid me no notice until after he had finished taking role. His eyes were cold black tunnels, and he spoke in barely more than a whisper, but we caught every word. He gave a brief speech on the beauty, art, and science of potion-making, telling us he could teach us all we wished to know, all the power we wished to have, finishing with a scathing, "If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Then he suddenly turned to me and started barking questions. I recognized them from my studies in my books, what I had been told to focus on and read. I answered each question correctly, calmly and evenly, and Professor Snape gave me a piercing stare for a long moment.

"Well," he said at last, turning away dismissively, "at least someone's prepared for class. Five points to Slytherin and Ravenclaw."

Draco Malfoy gave me a glare and the Gryffindors were staring at me.

"Did I say something wrong?" I whispered to my Slytherin friends.

"Snape never compliments anyone," Blaise whispered back, grinning.

"Not even his own Slytherins," said Theo, interested and detached.

Professor Snape set us to work at workstations in two-person groups, one person setting up a cauldron for each group. We either took out our own Potions ingredients or took them from the student stores, slipped on our gloves, took out our scales and knives, and started the fire below the cauldron. We had a set amount of time to brew a simple potion to cure boils, and then we had to put some of our potion in one of our vials and hand it in to Snape at the end of class.

It sounded simple, and for me it was. After all the practicing and reading I had done, it was not a hard assignment. Professor Snape swept around in his long black cloak, criticizing almost everybody. He stopped at my station and looked into the potion. As far as I could tell, it was exactly how it was supposed to look.

"How did you know to crush instead of slice the scuttlefish spine?" he said at last.

"I-I read a lot, sir," I said, ducking my head.

"Hm. So you were Sorted correctly," he mused. Before I could do more than ponder what he meant by that, he said, "Five more points, Mr Potter," and moved on.

The Gryffindors all hated me by the end of class, but as far as I was concerned they could all go fuck themselves because I was elated. Ten points for my two houses in my very first week!

But there was one more thing I had to do that Friday afternoon before my first week was over.

I knocked on the office door and opened it. Minerva looked up from her mahogany desk. "Quintus," she said warmly with a small smile, "come in."

I smiled and sat down across from her.

"So how has your first week been? You have been keeping up with your studies, haven't you?" she added sternly.

And, happy, I began to tell her all about my first week at Hogwarts. At the end, I added curiously, "Minerva, Professor Snape acted very oddly toward me today. Complimentary, but odd. Is there something I'm missing?"

Minerva smiled wryly. "Professor Snape was friends with your mother in school. I wouldn't talk to him about it; he took her death very badly. But he most decidedly did not like your father. I think he expected to hate you like he did James.

"I think Professor Snape is simply coming to the realization that in fashion and mannerisms, you are very unlike your swaggering Gryffindor father."