Chapter Text
Harry, along with Ron, Hermione, and Neville, were led to the Gryffindor common room, which was hidden behind a portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress; the password (for the next two years, mind you) was "Caput Draconis," and they were greeted to a cylindrical-shaped common room filled with red furniture and a roaring fireplace, above the latter was a portrait of a majestic lion.
"Everyone, the boy's room is over there," a fifth-year prefect pointed in the direction, "and the girl's are over there. Don't try to sneak into the girl's dorm, as it's warded against that," he warned. "Now, I imagine everyone is tired, especially after eating at the feast, so get some sleep. You have curtains that hang over your bed that magically blocks out noise and sound, both outside and in, so everyone can get some privacy. I'll be waking you all up at 6:00 AM sharp for breakfast, so don't stay up for too long. Good night, everyone."
Everyone who was listening went to their respective rooms and each person chose a spot, Harry particularly choosing the spot that showed an oval grassy field with many differently colored towers, with long thin white poles with circles at the top that were dotted at the end of each side. Harry put his storage crate underneath his bed as he let Hedwig out so she could stretch her wings. She gave an appreciative hoot as she flew around, before landing at the top of his bed roof.
"Hey, Ron?" Harry asked as changed into his pajamas.
"What is it? I'm about to go to sleep," Ron yawned out, smacking his lips afterwards.
"Do you have an animal companion at home or something? I don't see one with you," The Boy Who Lived asked curiously as he got into his bed, pulling the covers over him.
"Oh, I do have an animal companion, it's a rat named Scabbers. He lives in my pocket most of the time, see?" Ron pulled out the brown-colored rat named Scabbers, who started to sniff the air and eyed his beady black eyes at Harry, almost as if it was…thinking. "He's a little useless since he sleeps most of the time, but I still love him to bits," he admitted, a small smile on his face. Harry felt the weirdest of urges to [Observe] the rat, but he resisted it.
Afterall, it was just a rat, so Harry took off his glasses and set it aside on an end table near him, letting sleep consume him.
A trumpet tantara played through the Gryffindor common room, playing the American military wake up song Reveille to wake everyone up. Everyone groaned and moaned at being woken up at such an ungodly hour, but the fifth-year prefect did tell them he'd wake them up at the dot. Harry rushed to change clothes as he got on his school robes and his glasses on, Ron and Neville quickly following suit behind him.
"Wakey wakey, Gryffindors! It's the first day of school and you definitely don't want to miss breakfast, you'll need it if you want to survive the year. Now, single file line to the Great Hall, everyone!" he commanded, looking awake and untired. All of the boys and girls got into line as they made their way to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, food magically appearing on the table. "We've got sausage, scrambled and over-easy eggs, bacon, hash browns, orange juice; if you want it it's probably already on the table, so dig in!" he shouted before shoving his mouth full of food.
"How'd you boys sleep?" Hermione asked as she got bacon and eggs on her plate, munching on it slowly as she was still tired.
"I slept great," Ron said between breaths of food, inhaling all of it in sight. It was almost like watching a food waste disposer destroy food from the scene.
"I—I didn't sleep so good. I don't sleep well in—in new places," Neville stuttered out, chewing on a hash brown that had ketchup on it. Harry decided to [Observe] him, wanting to get a gauge on his exhaustion.
Neville Longbottom -- Lvl. 13 -- Age: 11
HP: 100/100
MP: 250/250
Class: Wizard
Exhaustion: 100/500
Title: ???
Active Buff: ???
Alert! The skill [Observe] has leveled up to Lvl. 12!
Alert! The skill [Observe] can now tell you someone's title!
"Nether did I, Neville. All the girls were gossiping all night," Hermione revealed.
"You do remember that there were privacy magic or whatever on the curtains, right?" Harry reminded, forcing himself to eat slowly lest he looked like Ron. He so rarely was able to eat breakfast at the Dursleys' house, so an opportunity like this was heaven for him.
"Well, I guess mine was broken, as I heard them through the curtains."
"I suggest you tell that fifth-year prefect that so it doesn't happen again," Harry urged her, pointing his thumb in the direction of the prefect in question. They all went back to silently eating their meal, everyone enjoying it in varying degrees of pleasure. After about thirty minutes the prefect rose up from his seat and wiped a bit of egg off his mouth before he clapped his hands together, getting their attention.
"Okay, everyone! Classes begin in about an hour, so make sure you know where to go and what to bring with you. Good luck, Gryffindors!" he said before he walked away. Harry, deciding to be a bit of a snoop, [Observe]ed him to find out his name.
Ezekiel Gray -- Lvl. 24 -- Age: 16
HP: 180/180
MP: 350/350
Class: Wizard
Exhaustion: 0/800
Title: The Early Bird
Active Buff: ???
Harry wondered what that title meant before his brain woke up a bit further, feeling like he was stupid for not understanding immediately. He wiped his mouth with a nearby napkin, syrup all over him as he decided to head back to his dorm room, and more specifically, his bed to gather his stuff for his first class.
"Everyone sit down and take out their book of Magical Drafts and Potions that you were told to buy before class started," Professor Snape commanded, striding into the room with long strides, his black robes fluttering closely behind him. "We have no time to dilly daddle. Mr. Potter," he signaled out, catching the attention of the student in question. All eyes fell onto him, making him slightly squirm in the limelight. "How many times do you stir the Wolfsbane Potion?"
"Nine times?" Harry said but it came out like a question, not remembering the recipe exactly in the book in question. He had read over all the books he bought with Hagrid over the four weeks, and with his [Quick Learner] skill he managed to remember a good majority of the text.
Snape looked surprised for a millisecond before he smiled, but it wasn't a warm one. No, it was as if he fell into a trap perfectly. "Correct, but how many times do you stir it each way? Chop chop, Mr. Potter, we haven't all day."
"I, um, don't know, sir," he admitted with a frown.
"Five points from Gryffindor for not being prepared for class. It's stirred five times clockwise and four counterclockwise. If you have to take one thing from my class know this: It is imperative to know whether to stir clockwise or counterclockwise, among other things, as it will decide whether your potion succeeds in working or fails miserably. Mr. Weasley," he signaled out again, Ron's head rising up rapidly as it was lying on his desk, a pool of saliva on wooden table.
"Whatisit?" he slurred out before wiping his mouth with his bare arm.
"Five points from Gryffindor for falling asleep, on the first day no less. Now tell me, who controls the making and usage of the potion Veritaserum?"
"I don't know," Ron revealed, trying to make himself smaller in the eyes of his professor.
"Ten points for not being up to date with potion restrictions and for speaking too quietly. The Ministry of Magic strictly controls the making and usage of the powerful truth potion Veritaserum," Professor Snape explained.
Harry didn't think Ron spoke quietly at all, in fact, he thought that Snape was being a bit of an arsehole in how he was teaching.
"Mr. Malfoy, what ingredients are used in the 'love' potion Amortentia?" the greasy-haired professor asked, a stoic look on his face.
The blond-haired boy in question looked up from his desk and stopped writing down the information that his teacher was giving him. He smiled a bit cockily as he answered, "Ashwinder eggs, rose thorns, peppermint, powdered moonstone, pearl dust, and rose petals, sir."
"Ten points to Slytherin for being prepared and speaking coherently. Mr. Malfoy is correct in all ingredients, unlike two other students," he bashed, ignoring the raised hand from Hermione Granger, as she desperately wanted to answer. "For the first potion you'll all be learning today is the boil-removing potion. Wizards and witches, especially at a young age, can be afflicted with boils by the Pimple Jinx that young children oh so love to cast. This elementary potion is easy to remember and made by even the most ignorant of wizards and witches. Turn to chapter one in your textbooks for the ingredients and the walkthrough on how to make it. The supplies you need are in the back of the classroom. You all have thirty minutes to make the potion, more than enough time for some of the stupid ones in here," he insulted before left the room, leaving them by their lonesome.
"What an arsehole!" Ron remarked as he opened the aforementioned textbook, subtly squeezing his beloved rat gently to calm himself down.
"Ron! Don't talk bad about our superiors," Hermione chastised, her head close to the book as she read over the ingredient list. After a second of thought though she admitted, "He was a little harsher than necessary."
"He k—kinda was. I'm just g—glad he didn't pick o—on me," Neville added his opinion as he added 6 snake fangs to the mortar and pestle.
Harry, meanwhile, was stewing in indignation at the treatment of his new friends as he made the damn potion. Some snake fangs there, crush them into a fine powder with the pestle there, and five or so more steps later he had the aquamarine-colored potion in his cauldron. He compared his potion to the others by subtly walking around and peering into their cauldron, seeing theirs was a less vibrant shade of blue than his. He went back to his desk and decided to [Observe] his potion.
Cauldron-full of Boil-Remover Potion
Description: A near-perfectly-made cauldron full of boil-removing potion; when drunken it removes boils and pimples in seconds.
"Near-perfectly-made," it said. Sweet, he did something right for once.
Alert! The skill [Quick Learner] has leveled up to Lvl. 7!
Just as the alert came through Professor Snape strode back into the room, looking disgusted before he adopted a stoic look once more. He went up and down the aisles to evaluate the potions before he examined Harry's. He did a double-take as he examined the potion before dipping his finger into it and sampling the potion. Snape smacked his lips a few times before uttering, "Nearly perfect. Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Didn't you grow up with muggle relatives?" the professor asked, an eyebrow raised. Harry nodded yes as his teacher said, "Ten points to Gryffindor for having a near-perfect potion. Best one by far, but don't let your head get too big," he warned.
Hermione slumped a bit at finding out her potion wasn't as good as her friend's. Professor Snape went through the aisles until he got to Draco's desk, his red-filled cauldron bubbling over and making a mess of things.
Snape sneered as he shook his head. "Mr. Malfoy, I expected much better from you for your earlier example. This potion is lumpy, viscous, and the wrong color," he pointed out. "See me after class."
Draco visibly relaxed at hearing that no house points would be taken away before getting a rag and wiping up the botched potion as best as he could, but it was a losing battle as the cauldron kept bubbling over.
Their teacher sighed as he pulled out his wand and said, "Scourgify." The overflowing potion disappeared in the blink of the eye, leaving the desk clean. He then pulled something out of his robes and threw it into Draco's cauldron, stirring it six times counterclockwise. Whatever he did to the cauldron worked, as it stopped overflowing. "Anyone wanting to learn that particular cleaning charm see me after class or at the end of the day." Snape then looked to the clock in his classroom as he announced, "Class is over, everyone. Make sure you completely read over chapter two before next class."
The students all packed up their things as they made their way out, leaving behind three students: Harry, Hermione, and Draco.
"Of course it's you two. Why am I not surprised?" their teacher huffed out. He grabbed a nearby flask of mystery liquid before pouring it out onto the floor. "Pay attention: Take your wand out and make this hand motion as you say 'Scourgify,'" he instructed, making the hand motion backwards so they didn't get confused.
Hermione went first as she tried the charm, "Scourgify!" The charm worked half-way, as only half the intentional spill was cleaned.
Professor Snape nodded his head as he repoured the mystery liquid on the floor, "Not bad for the first time, Ms. Granger, but next time put more magic into the charm. Your turn, Mr. Potter."
Harry took a deep breath as he did the wand movement, feeling something surge within him as he casted, "Scourgify!" This time all the liquid went away, leaving the floor squeaky-clean.
Alert! A new spell has been added to your spell list!
"Congratulations," their teacher drawled out, "you've learned the charm. Now out with you, I have something to discuss with Mr. Malfoy."
"Welcome everyone to Herbology. I am your professor, miss Pomona Sprout," she announced. She was an aging old lady with a pointy hat. They all were in a greenhouse for the lesson, all of them standing next to boxes of dirt and smells galore. "For today's class we'll only be going over the syllabus and answering any questions you may have. Yes, Mr. Longbottom?" she pointed at the raised hand.
"Um, hi? I mean, how does herbology relate to magic? Doesn't it also exist in the muggle world?" he got out, surprising his three friends by not stuttering once.
"Excellent question, Mr. Longbottom. Five points to Gryffindor for having an inquisitive mind. Now, onto your question, yes herbology exists in the muggle world, but not as potently. An example would be the flower chamomile and honey, which combined together gets you something that can heal low to medium wounds. That's a muggle herb recipe, but the magical version is much more useful. An example of a magical recipe for herbs is mandrake, which can cure even petrified people. Now, let's go over what you'll be learning next class."
It was a few days later until Harry and company had the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which was taught by the weirdest man he has ever met. Because of his [Heightened Senses] skill (which leveled up to Lvl. 2 from using his nose), he smelled the copious amount of garlic (and oddly the stench of death) on the turban-wearing man from far away. He was stuttering so hard that nobody even understood him, so Harry decided to cut the bullshit and [Observe] him.
Quirinus Quirrell (Partially Possessed) -- Lvl. 32 -- Age: 26
HP: 60/60
MP: 450/450
Class: Wizard
Exhaustion: 150/1000
Title: The Possessed Puppet
Active Buff: ???
Tom Marvolo Riddle "Voldemort" (Wraith-Form) -- Lvl. 94 -- Age: 64
HP: 30/30
MP: 1200/1200
Class: Wizard
Exhaustion: 120/200
Title: The Vengeful Wraith
Active Buff: ???
Wait, what the fuck?! Voldemort, the Voldemort was with them and was possessing their DADA teacher?! Harry felt suddenly much less safe, anxious on what was going to happen. On the outside he appeared to be calm, but on the inside he was freaking the fuck out and wanting a knife or a combative spell to protect himself with. The time passed by too slowly for his liking, the lesson coming out incomprensible from all the stuttering from the possessed man. As soon as he announced that class was over Harry beelined his way to the headmaster's office after asking some Gryffindor prefects where it was.
He ascended the staircase to the floor in question and passed the ridiculous checks to enter before knocking on the headmaster's door.
"Come in!" said a grandfatherly voice. Harry listened and opened the door, revealing a very special-looking office. There were knick knacks all over the place, some obviously magical and some muggle. There was an active drinking bird water toy on Dumbledore's desk, but instead of a red bird it was a phoenix drinking from the water source instead. There was also a Newton's Cradle Pendulum swinging and bashing the other metal balls on his desk, and Harry guessed it was to pass time watching the thing. "Sit down and relax, Mr. Potter. Do you mind, for the sake of brevity, if I can call you Harry? You can, of course, call me Albus or Dumbledore if you'd like."
"Of course, Dumbledore," Harry said, sitting down in one of the three chairs in front of him. He got comfortable in his seat as he mentally reviewed the bombshell he was going to drop on the poor old man. "Observe," he whispered under his breath, wanting to gauge the strength of the man.
Albus Dumbledore -- Lvl. 96 -- Age: 110
HP: 200/200
MP: 1260/1260
Class: Wizard
Exhaustion: 0/900
Title: The Chief Warlock
Active Buff: ???
Wow, Dumbledore was stronger than even Voldemort? That was…illuminating. Maybe one day he could be as powerful (or more powerful) than them?
"Would you like a lemon drop, Harry?" Albus asked nicely, profering the offer item and pulling The Boy Who Lived out of his thoughts.
"A lemon drop? Isn't that a…what did Hagrid call it? Ah, a 'muggle' candy?" Harry asked, shaking his head no to the candy.
"Yes, and I quite like them, but to each their own. Now, onto the reason why you're here."
"Yes, about that, sir: I believe that Voldemort is possessing my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," he bluntly told the headmaster.
The atmosphere of the room "shifted," as it were. It went eerily silent as the twinkle disappeared from Dumbledore's eyes. "You suggest that Professor Quirrell is harboring the believed to be dead Lord Voldemort as a partial/full possession?" Harry nodded yes. "And your evidence?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Harry went silent at the question, not knowing whether or not to reveal his ace-in-the-hole [The Gamer] ability to Dumbledore as the source of his fears and worries.
"Such grave accusations cannot be sprung without just cause, Harry. Are you sure that you didn't imagine it or something like it? Sure, the man has his…quirks, but Professor Quirrell is a trusted member of the staff here at Hogwarts," Albus argued.
Suddenly Harry got an idea, "Have you ever seen behind his turban, Albus?"
Dumbledore shook his head no, "Alas, I have once asked to see his full head only to be denied. He said it was for personal reasons, which I respect and should honor, Harry. I hope you're not suggesting we, say, forcibly remove it to see if he is truly harboring the Dark Lord."
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting, Headmaster," Harry agreed, hoping that Dumbledore would listen to reason.
Sadly, Albus shook his head no, looking as though he aged several years. "Harry, if we removed every piece of headgear from every person we suspected to be harboring Lord Voldemort, well, nothing would be achieved. I'm sorry to say that your fears and worries are completely unjustified and you simply do not like the man."
Harry looked dumbfounded and pissed at the older man's observations, unbelieving that man would completely brush off his concerns like that. "But Dumbledore, if you simply looked at the back of his uncovered head you would see I'm correct," The Boy Who Lived urged.
Again the older man shook his head no, "Harry, we simply cannot ask Professor Quirrell to remove his turban just because you believe he's harboring the dead man Lord Voldemort. I suggest you go to Madam Pomfrey and get several dreamless sleep potions. I'll of course warn her and tell her to allow you a week's worth of the stuff so you can a proper rest and see the error of your ways," he dismissively said, taking out a yellowed piece of parchment and dipping his quill into his nearby ink supply, writing out what he said he'd do.
Harry was in shock. Here was a man who was actively dismissing his fears and concerns simply because the old cod didn't believe him and couldn't be bothered to confirm/deny his accusations. "I'm not going to 'see the error of my ways!' You're in denial, Headmaster, and Professor Quirrell smells like death and garlic!"
Dumbledore looked up from his writing, giving a confused look to the student. "Why did you get close enough to smell him?"
"You can smell it a mile away," Harry lied, not wanting to reveal his [Heightened Senses] skill. "Why else would he want to smell like garlic?"
"Maybe he doesn't take a bath as often as he would like, Harry. It is not up to me when a man takes care of his personal hygiene, you know. Now, if you're done would you kindly walk on over to Madam Pomfrey and give her this note? It has your dreamless sleeping potion prescription in it," he explained as he offered the rolled parchment. Harry begrudgingly took the parchment of paper from the man and was about to open it when Albus interrupted, "And please don't read it. The contents of the parchment are private, afterall. Have a good day, Harry," Dumbledore farewelled, deciding to get back to work on the copious amount of documents on his desk.
Harry stomped out of the headmaster's office as he struggled to find his way to his objective. Along the way he decided to sneak to peak at the parchment, finding that it read:
Please allow one Harry James Potter seven days worth of dreamless sleeping potions.
Make sure to secretly add anti-anxiety draught to the week's potions, to better let him relax and destress.
Sincerely,
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore
That conniving old man, trying to meddle with his life. Sure, he was trying to help him but all Headmaster Dumbledore was doing was piss him off. Harry was going to crumble the parchment and throw it away when a thought occurred to him: He didn't have to drink the potion himself, right? Surely, if he snuck it into a certain man's drink, then wouldn't said man fall asleep, unaware and vulnerable to the world?
A plan began to form in his mind as he finally found Pomfrey's Office. After getting the week's worth of potions in a bag, the plan was formed and it eventually resulted in him getting a system alert:
Alert! New quest(s) are available!
"Quest Log."
Outstanding Quests:
A Monster in Disguise
- Goal: Defeat Professor Quirrell and banish Voldemort's wraith from the former's body.
- Bonus: Prove to your professors/the headmaster that you were right.
Rewards: 10,000 XP
Bonus Rewards: Winning the House Cup for the year and +25 Rep with all professors (except Professor Quirrell, which will be -80 Rep)
What the hell was a “House Cup?”