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Magpies and Mischief

Summary:

Harry finds a safe haven in his local library, and the path it sets him on gives him a different perspective as he faces his years at Hogwarts. Ravenclaw Harry.

Chapter Text

The Boy Who Read

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number 4, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were all the more horrified, then, to find a baby on their doorstep as Vernon Dursley set off for work one cold November morning. The letter left with the swaddled Harry Potter was, despite Vernon’s swearing and Petunia’s fearful quivering, persuasive enough to grant Harry space in their home, but the Dursleys were committed that they would have none of that Potter weirdness in their home.  

------  

Harry Potter spent most days waiting for something bad to happen. Despite his best efforts to be absolutely uninteresting, strange and unusual things continued to happen to him, and they usually led to uncle Vernon’s tirades or beatings from Dudley. Dudley took it upon himself to enforce Harry’s solitude and isolation outside of the house, punishing Harry with his tiny band of goons and taking great pleasure in inflicting more pain when Harry tried to stand up to them. Harry had tried to make friends in classes, but other students soon learned to avoid him, and any budding friendships withered and died as quickly as they started.  

One summer afternoon, Harry found himself yet again on the run. Out of breath and flagging as the rounded a corner, he decided the best option was to try to shelter in the nearest building. Stepping through the doors, he felt a wave of relief hit him as cool air washed over his skin. The entryway was warmly lit, and the quiet was so pervasive that it felt like air was made of soft cotton. Rows of tall shelves ran the length of the building  behind a small round desk of dark brown wood. A tall girl in her late teens stood behind the desk, slightly hunched over and idly nibbling on a pencil. Her dark blonde hair hung loose, gently spilling down over her simple white shirt. As Harry began making his way toward her, she looked up, her furrowed brow quickly transitioning into a cordial smile as she straightened.   

Harry had only taken a step or two, however, before his relief was shattered by the raucous arrival of 4 large boys behind him.  

“There you are Potter! Trying to hide in the library?” Dudley spat, while his gang loudly guffawed. A second more and they were trying to grab him to pull him back out the door, moving to surround him as he retreated another few steps toward the desk. As Harry mentally prepared himself for the beating he knew would be worse the more he resisted, he heard a voice behind him cut through Dudley’s laughter.  

“No! Out! We’ll have none of that here, find somewhere else to go.” The blonde girl was behind him now, pointing aggressively toward the door with an annoyed look on her face. Harry sighed and apologized, and began following Dudley’s gang out the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  

“Not you, you can stay.” He registered Dudley’s furious expression through the door, before turning to look at the owner of the hand on his shoulder. She was still watching Dudley’s departure, as if unconvinced that he would leave unless she watched him go, but she quickly turned back to Harry and offered him a smile.   

“Now, I don’t believe I’ve seen you in here before. What is your name?”  

“Erm, H-Harry, Harry Potter” he stammered.  

“Well Harry Potter, my name is Alice and I’m here to help you with whatever business you have in the library. What sort of books are you looking for?” she replied.  

Harry thought for a moment before answering, a bit embarrassed. “I’m not sure, I haven’t read a lot outside of class. What do you suggest?” He let her lead him back through the shelves, to a small sitting area with chairs and a few writing desks, before she gently deposited him in a cloth chair that sank in and threatened to swallow him up.  

“Well, most boys your age tend to like fantasy and science fiction, that’s what you’ll find on the shelves here next to the reading commons, but we also have classic literature, philosophy, and if you walk a bit further you’ll find maths, science, and the like. We also have individual rooms for meetings and on Thursday evenings we have a few older students that use them to offer tutoring if you have difficulty in your classes. Here,” she said as she pulled a book down and placed it in his hands. “This one has been pretty popular lately, give it a read. If you don’t like it feel free to check the shelves for something else. I’ll get you set up before you leave so you can take books home as well. I’ll just be back up at the front desk, let me know if you need anything  else!” and with another quick smile she was walking away.  

Harry looked at the cover of the book, featuring a rocket and a space station on the front, and tried not to think about Dudley’s revenge later as he settled in and began reading.  

 

-  

Harry’s routine quickly became spending as much time as he could manage at the library. He still had to endure chores and Dudley’s harassment at school, but Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia seemed almost glad to have him gone more of the day. The oversized clothes he’d been handed down from Dudley were especially effective for smuggling books into his cupboard, an especially useful feature as Harry quickly found himself consuming books ravenously, long after the Dursleys had gone to bed, reading in his cupboard by the light of a torch.   

Alice helped him find more material to read as the days went on, offering her own suggestions and often waxing poetic about how enlightening the classics were. Harry struggled to comprehend the works of Victor Hugo the first time he let Alice pick out one of her classics for him, needing a dictionary open alongside as he read, but slowly his vocabulary and understanding grew to the task.  

After struggling with a particularly confusing maths lesson for days, he finally spent Thursday night in a tutoring session, and decided that once he got the hang of it, his schoolwork wasn’t all that miserable after all, and within a few days he decided to brave the harder academic side of the library, before beating a hasty retreat and deciding he definitely was not prepared for all the strange swooping symbols he’d seen on a brief flip through the first book he opened. He didn’t realize how comfortable his studies had made him with the material until he absentmindedly answered a question posed to the class one day at school, and the rapid drawing of attention and subsequent beating by Dudley that afternoon had convinced him to be comfortable quietly .  

The day Harry saw a letter for him in the daily post, he knew from experience how to hide it until he could read it later. He broke the wax seal with the large, ornate H and was quickly convinced it had to be a sort of joke.  

Dear Mr. Potter,  

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.  

 Maybe Alice was referencing some fantasy novel he hadn’t read yet. But how did she know he lived in the cupboard under the stairs? He set it aside and resolved to ask about it when next he saw her. The next morning, however, threw a wrench in his plans as several more letters for him were waiting with the post, and this time uncle Vernon had seen them first. Vernon tried his best to sound polite and unconcerned when he informed Harry that Dudley’s second bedroom would now be his, despite the barely concealed fear and anger and Dudley’s shrieks of protest. As the week went on, however, Harry found his freedom limited even more as Vernon and Petunia frantically responded to the escalating number of letters each day. Harry was more concerned by all the owls outside, as their behavior and number went against everything he’d read about them in a book on birds he’d enjoyed once.   

When hundreds of letters exploded out of the fireplace and prompted Vernon to move everyone to a shack surrounded by water and only accessible by boat, Harry thought that Alice’s joke had gotten a bit out of hand. When a giant beat down the door the morning of his eleventh birthday, Harry knew it was too much.   

 

Then Hagrid told Harry he was a wizard.  

Chapter 2: Flourishing

Chapter Text

Even after spending the trip to Diagon Alley grilling Hagrid with questions about magic and wizard society, Harry was still unprepared for what awaited him in Diagon Alley. Gringotts had been thrilling, and while he’d tried to keep an open mind about goblins, they seemed only marginally less unpleasant than described by Tolkien. He did note that Gringotts was far more… ornate, than he would’ve expected of goblins. Hagrid had been kind enough to explain wizard currency to Harry and reassured him that his parents hadn’t left him with nothing, but his mouth still hung open at the sight of the enormous pile of gleaming galleons.  

With most of the shopping now done and a brief stop for lunch at the leaky cauldron, Harry was eagerly eyeing the storefront of Flourish and Blott’s through the window, his mood only slightly dampened by Hagrid’s explanation of his parent’s fate. Hagrid had wanted to save Ollivander’s for last, but Harry’s reaction after first passing the store had left no uncertainty that the bookstore would be the star of the day.   

After waiting far, far too long in Harry’s opinion, he finally stepped into the shop with his Hogwarts list, elated as his eyes wandered over the tomes closest to the door. As Hagrid departed for some personal business elsewhere in the alley, Harry made his way through the bustling shop to the counter.   

“Erm, excuse me?” he said as he brandished his list, “could you tell me where I might find these?”  

The shopkeeper accepted his list and gave it a brief glance before responding.   

“Ah, Hogwarts is it? First year?”  

“Yes sir” Harry replied. He watched as the shopkeeper stepped away before returning with a prearranged stack of books, already tied together with ribbon, and set them on the counter before him.  

“Excellent, always a joy to meet the new students each year. Will that be all for you?”  

Harry looked around the shop, nervously, but the wizard before him seemed to notice the hunger in his gaze, grinning ever so slightly wider.  

“Actually, sir, if it’s alright, I’d like to browse a bit more, but I’m rather overwhelmed trying to decide where to start. Do you have any recommendations?”  

The older man stepped out from behind the counter and guided Harry down a side row, the shelves towering overhead as they walked. “Now, these are a bit more general use books, but you’ll want to stay in this area for now. The books further back tend to be a bit more advanced and specialized, and you don’t want to bite off more than you can chew when you’re first starting out. A bit of time at Hogwarts will give you an appreciation for which subjects you want to explore more as well. Now, I personally think that every witch and wizard would benefit from a copy of Common Household Charms ” as he pulled a thin and rather plain book from the shelf, “and you can’t go wrong with Practical Potions for the Working Wizard , though it may be a bit overwhelming now. Go on and have a look around, and just bring your selections up when you’re ready.”  

Harry thanked him, and spent what felt like ages and still not long enough looking over the titles before he saw Hagrid in the window, and made his way back to the counter to pay, subtly placing a copy of Mischief and Magic for Young Warlocks between his other books as he remembered Dudley’s tail with a smirk. The shopkeeper eyed his selection with a laugh, before tallying the cost and collecting Harry’s galleons. Harry thanked him again as he collected his new books and accepted the shopkeep’s well wishes with some confusion, unsure about his warning not to lose too many points this term.  

Hagrid waited outside with a beautiful snowy owl, and after a nervous but joyful introduction, noticed Harry’s additional purchases and chuckled.  

“I had a feeling you’d be spending a bit more time in there. Just like your mum, although I can see your dad’s had his influence as well. I think you’ll appreciate this” he said as he pulled out a canvas satchel and handed it over for Harry’s inspection. “It’s a simple one, nothing fancy, but it’s got a nice expansion charm to help you carry all your things. Strap’s adjustable too, and it’ll get bigger with you so no need to worry about growing out of it.”  

Harry wasn’t sure what an expanding charm was, but understanding hit him as he reached in to feel the inside of the bag and his eyes went wide.  

It’s bigger on the inside !” Harry immediately set about depositing his books inside with love and care as the realization hit him that these were the first of his books, not borrowed from elsewhere. “I- thank you Hagrid, it’s amazing.” Hagrid smiled and went a bit red and glassy eyed while Harry tried not to notice, and before long Hagrid was ushering them on their way.  

---  

Despite being relatively quiet and uneventful, the month of August seemed to stretch out for ages. Hagrid had warned Harry that he wasn’t allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts, foiling Harry’s plans for Dudley, but the fear that Hagrid might return was palpable in the Dursley’s treatment of Harry as he waited for September.  

Despite his limitations on magic use, Harry still found his books productive. Actually using magic was a fair bit more technical than Hagrid had made it seem, and so while Harry couldn’t cast the spells, he could practice the wand movements as he read. Being forced to help Aunt Petunia in the garden had given him a curiosity about the plants, and Harry saw a fair few plants in his herbology textbook that he remembered from a book on horticulture he’d read in the library some time ago. History of magic was even more eye-opening, if incredibly dense, but he took a fair bit of joy visiting the library one day to compare with the muggle account of history. Evidently the Renaissance had been rife with wizards only barely concealing the use of magic in their accomplishments, and modern chemistry originated with potioneers before they were discredited by muggles unable to replicate their work without magic.  

As August drew to a close, Harry made a point to visit the library and inform Alice that he would be attending a boarding school in Scotland, and thanked her for everything she’d done for him the last year. Harry briefly looked around at the place that had been his haven from the Dursleys, and sincerely hoped that Hogwarts had a good library as he departed.  

Chapter 3: Colourful Travels

Chapter Text

Harry had only been seated for a moment, watching London pass by in the window, when the door opened for the red haired boy from the platform. Harry was still unused to the reactions wizards gave when he introduced himself, but when Ron moved on to offering to show Harry how to turn his rat yellow, Harry was eager to see magic performed again. As he watched, Ron pulled out his wand and incanted.  

“Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!” Harry watched a flash of light flare from Ron’s wand, but the only effect seemed to be agitating a decidedly not yellow Scabbers.  

“Er, is that how spells usually are cast? I’ve given my books a read through but most of the spells only seem to be one or two words, not so much… limericks. Hang on, actually, I think I saw something similar in one of the books I bought.” Harry reached into his bag and called Mischief and Magic for Young Warlocks to his hand. A large portion of the book carried warnings not to attempt until he was a bit older and more skilled, but one simple spell near the front of the book leapt to the front of his memory.  

“Ah, here we are, the colour change charm. Have a look” Harry said as he passed the book over. Harry took aim at Scabbers, focused on the image of a pale yellow rat, and gave his wand a flick.  

“Colovaria! Aha, see, that’s done it. Do you want to give it a try?” Harry looked at Ron with a sheepish smile, proud to have successfully used magic intentionally for the first time, but still vividly remembering Dudley’s lessons on the penalty of success. Thankfully, Ron seemed pleased with the result, and after a few attempts had changed Scabbers to a vivid purple himself.   

“Blimey, this book looks loads more fun than the ones on the list. I wonder if Fred and George have a copy they’ll let me borrow” Ron muttered and trailed off as he finished the thought.  

“Well if not, I can show you some of what I learn and lend you mine from time to time. I had hoped to use it to get some peace from my cousin but apparently casting spells away from Hogwarts isn’t allowed. I think the Standard Book of Spells has a spell to reverse the colour. One moment.”   

Harry had fished out his textbook and was just flipping to the general counter-spell when the door opened again. By this time the sky outside was growing dim and the lamps inside the cabin had come on, and a girl with thick brown hair stood in the doorway, already wearing her Hogwarts robes.    

“Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville’s lost his.” She stated, and Harry thought she seemed a bit frantic, but couldn’t begrudge her response when he thought of how he’d feel if Hedwig were missing.  

“No, only chocolate frogs here I’m afraid. Can you be more specific? What’s the toad look like, I can keep an eye out if it turns up.” Harry replied.  

“Neville only said he’s brown and is called Trevor.” Her face shifted from vague concern to haughty expectation and then confusion as her eyes shifted to Harry’s wand and the purple rat next to Ron. “Oh are you doing magic? I don’t recall seeing that spell in any of my books, and I know them all by heart. Let’s see then” She commanded.  

Harry felt a brief pang of irritation before setting it aside in favor of politeness. “You’ve missed most of the fun by now I’m afraid, I was just about to set Ron’s rat right when you arrived. If you’re interested I’d be happy to show you the spell some other time though” he said as he forced a smile. Harry pointed his wand at the rat and with a swish and an uttered “ finite incantatem ” he reversed the spell. He turned back to the girl with a grin and continued, “I’m Harry Potter by the way, what’s your name?”  

“Hermione Granger. That was well done, I thought I was the only one who’d had a look at our books before arriving. For example,” she whipped out her  wand and aimed it directly at Harry’s face, who’s eyes went wide as he tried to suppress the urge to dive away. “Oculus reparo” and the bridge of Harry’s glasses mended themselves, the tape holding them together disappearing with a small flash and sizzling sound.  

“Thank you, I forget about them most of the time honestly.” Harry turned to Ron, who was chewing a chocolate frog and inspecting the card it came with.   

“Sorry Ron, did you want to introduce yourself? I didn’t mean to ignore you.” Harry watched him hold up a finger as he finished chewing, before he finally turned to Hermione and spoke.  

“S’alright. Erm, Ron Weasley” he stated, brushing his hand on his pants before extending it to Hermione, who shook it with a slight grimace. Harry saw her look between the two of them before she spoke again.  

“Well I’d best get back to helping Neville. You’d best change into your robes, I expect we’ll be arriving soon.” And with a curt turn she closed the door and was gone.  

 

---  

Harry couldn’t stop looking around as he entered the entrance hall. The castle had been mind boggling as the first years approached in the boats, and Harry realized he hadn’t known what to expect but knew he hadn’t expected that. He tried not to think of the stories he’d read in the library about ghosts as they filled the hall, and when the awful boy he’d met in Madam Malkin’s introduced himself with a warning about making friends with the wrong sort of people, Harry’s response had been a short “I’m actually rather familiar with who the wrong sort are, but thank you” before turning back to Ron.  

As the deputy headmistress lead the first years into the great hall, Harry was bewildered by the apparent lack of a ceiling before he overheard Hermione loudly proclaiming that it was an enchantment she’d read about in Hogwarts, a History . Harry made a mental note to ask her if she’d lend it to him some time. Harry watched the others put on the sorting hat with mounting trepidation, and briefly wondered where he would end up, a horrid thought of the hat shouting ‘Dursleys!’ briefly flashing through his mind. When Professor McGonagall called out “Potter, Harry,” the hall went quiet. He looked around as he stepped forward and thought he saw the headmaster leaning forward ever so slightly. As the hat descended and obscured his vision, he heard a voice inside his skull, responding to his thoughts as he had them.  

Difficult. Very difficult. You’ve got the potential for greatness wherever you go, but where do you belong? There’s boldness in spades, and a fair share of cunning as well. A strong sense of fairness too. Oh, but your mind craves knowledge, thirsting to drink in it’s fill. Only one place for a mind like yours.  

“RAVENCLAW!” shouted the hat, and a table full of blue trimmed cloaks erupted in cheers. Harry glanced wistfully at Ron waiting to be sorted as he walked to the table, and gave a brief wave as he watched him join Hermione and Neville at the Gryffindor table. As the feast began and more food than Harry could imagine in one place appeared before him, he made a point of introducing himself to his new housemates, striking up an initially stilted conversation with Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil.   

When the feast ended, Harry followed the prefects up a grueling climb to the top of Ravenclaw tower, and watched as the Prefect demonstrated that entry was based on solving a riddle rather than a password like other houses had.  

“There’s not always necessarily a right answer, the point is to make you think and present a well-reasoned argument” He explained, before the large eagle granted him passage and he led them into a room carpeted in soft blues and adorned with warm wood and white stone, with stars and constellations marked on the ceiling and shelves of books lining the walls.   

As Harry looked out the window before settling into bed, his heart sang and he climbed into bed knowing that this place, high above the world, was where he was meant to be.  

Chapter 4: Transformative Transfiguration

Chapter Text

Harry woke with the sun, the sky still a mild purple as he got dressed. The mirror told him he looked ‘rather sloppy, don’t you think’ but he felt it was good enough for now, and he wasn’t sure if he liked having the mirror giving commentary on his appearance anyway. He made for the bathroom, eager to try one of the spells from Common Household Charms for cleaning his teeth. After a moment it was clear it had been successful, but some part of Harry thought that using a toothbrush felt more satisfying. With a small sigh he resigned himself to using it only as a secondary option. Unless it was an acquired taste and Harry only thought as he did because of habit? He’d have to ponder it and see if time would change his mind.   

  Harry checked his bag, made sure he had extra quills and ink for the day, and made his way down to the common room. He’d been the first of his dorm to awaken, a habit formed of years of being awoken to help prepare breakfast for uncle Vernon before work. To his surprise, there were already a fair few Ravenclaws in the common room, reading through their textbooks, writing letters, and speaking in hushed whispers. Harry looked around anxiously before spotting Penelope Clearwater, and making his way over to the prefect, remembering her helping guide the first years to the tower last night. She was sitting at a table near the exit, quietly chatting with another girl and periodically stopping to jot something down.  

“Erm, excuse me Penelope, sorry to interrupt.”  

“Yes, did you need something? Harry, isn’t it?” Harry saw her eyes flicker toward his scar before quickly returning to look him in the eyes. A brief look of recognition was quickly schooled into a polite smile and Harry was immediately thankful for it.  

“Yes, I know classes start today, only, I don’t know what classes or where they are.” Harry stated nervously, worried that he had somehow not noticed something painfully obvious to everyone else. Penelope, thankfully, chuckled softly before reassuring him.  

“Class schedules are distributed during breakfast the first full day of term, so you haven’t missed anything. When you head down to the great hall you should get yours. I’ll be coming down shortly, so if you need directions come find me and I’ll try to write out some quick instructions on how to get to the classrooms for you.”  

“Right, thank you” Harry said with a sigh of relief. “I’ll just head down then.” As Harry started away she spoke again.  

“Oh and Harry? Welcome to Ravenclaw. We’re glad to have you with us.”   

Harry felt a warmth he didn’t quite recognize and a small grin forced itself onto his face. He took a moment to look away before stammering a quick “Oh, erm, thanks. Thank you. Bye” and turned back to the exit. He did his best to retrace his footsteps down to the great hall, only taking two wrong turns before seeing some older ravenclaws walking down and resolving to follow them.  

Harry entered the sparsely populated great hall, warm golden sunlight streaming through the windows. Harry noticed that the Ravenclaw table was more full by far than the others, with many of the older students eating as they studied, toast or bacon in one hand and a quill in the other.  Harry took a seat in a less populated part of the table, and began filling his plate. He struggled to get food down around the nervousness in the pit of his stomach, but was slowly able to eat what he deemed enough for now. By this time the hall was nearly full and the soft speaking of barely awake students had escalated into a dull roar.    

Harry was relieved when he finally received his schedule, and realized with some excitement that his first class would be Transfiguration with the Gryffindors. Harry looked over and scanned the Gryffindor table, spotting a small cluster of bright red hair from Ron’s older brothers but no sign of Ron himself. He did finally see Hermione sitting mostly alone, speaking with a round boy that looked as nervous as Harry felt. Harry got up, went to find Penelope and showed her his schedule, thanking her profusely as she wrote out some quick directions to each of his classes. Directions in hand, he made his way over to the Gryffindor table and sat down across from Hermione, drawing a confused look from her as he did so.  

“Morning Hermione, alright?” he stated as cheerily as he could manage.  

“Good morning Harry. What brings you over? Oh, Harry, this is Neville Longbottom. Neville, Harry Potter.” There was a moment of awkward greetings between Harry and Neville before Harry turned back to Hermione.  

“Well, I saw we have our first class together, but I also overheard you mentioning a book about the history of Hogwarts last night and wanted to know more about it.” Hermione perked up noticeably at this, and Harry continued as he reached into his bag. “If you’d be alright with it, I’d love to borrow it sometime. I know books are a special sort of thing to ask for, but I am willing to lend you one of these in exchange if you’re interested?” Harry brandished his Household Charms  and Practical Potions books as he finished.  

Hermione’s eyes went wide. “Yes of course, I mean I would have lent it to you for nothing of course, but where did you find those? They weren’t on our lists.” Harry saw her greedily eyeing the charms book and handed it to her, smirking a bit as she enthusiastically flipped it open to view the table of contents.   

“I spent a good bit of time in Flourish and Blott’s, and one of the shopkeepers recommended them both. Not sure if it was Flourish or Blott. But I’ve read and pretty well memorized the first couple that don’t strongly recommend a lot more experience before attempting, so I’m happy to lend it to you.”  

“Oh this looks so interesting. Thank you Harry.” She said as she carefully place it in her bag. “I’ve left Hogwarts, a History in my dormitory, but I’ll bring it down later for you.” From there the conversation led to a steady peppering of Hogwarts trivia by Hermione, with Neville visibly much less interested than Harry. Finally, Hermione checked her watch  before suggesting that they should all head to transfiguration soon, inviting Harry to walk with them, and Harry was again thankful for Penelope’s directions as they walked.  

Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the class with an air that Harry would describe as politely stern, watching as the students trickled in. The desks were set in pairs, so Harry left Hermione and Neville to sit together while he took a seat by himself behind them. As the class filled he saw that his was the only desk with an empty seat, and caught a few glances and muttered whispers from the other students before directing his attention back to McGonagall with a pang of sadness.   

As Professor McGonagall began her lecture with a brief introduction to the subject of transfiguration that involved her rapidly changing into a cat and then back again, Harry felt his sadness replaced by wonder. Midway through her speech, the door opened loudly and all eyes turned to watch Ron Weasley being admonished on his tardiness by the professor, before directing him to the empty seat next to Harry and continuing.   

Their first lesson would be on changing a matchstick into a needle, with instructions and the incantation on the board at the front of the class. Professor McGonagall stated clearly that she did not expect anyone to be successful today, but to try to focus on perfecting their technique and wandwork, as building good habits now would give a strong base to the rest of their transfiguration experiences as time went on. For a while, a class full of students loudly incanted and waved their wands to no effect. Near the end of class, a few students had made their matchsticks slightly metallic but nothing more.  

 Finally, Harry, with a feeling of something shifting into place in his head, focused clearly and cast, eyes going wide as he watched the needle appear before him. He frantically looked around and saw everyone else focused on their own matches, with Ron seemingly trying to change his by poking it with the tip of his wand steadily more aggressively. Harry panicked and quickly changed the needle back with a whispered “ finite incantatem ” before continuing to feign failure along with the class.  

As the class reached its end, Professor McGonagall called for them to stop, collecting their matches before holding up a perfectly transfigured needle by Hermione as an example, awarding five points to Gryffindor. After assigning an essay on the basic fundamentals of transfiguration to be completed by the next class, she dismissed the class, stepping over toward Harry as he packed his supplies away carefully.  

“A word before you go, please, Mr. Potter.” She said in a tone that indicated it was certainly not optional. Ron gave him a sympathetic look while Harry wracked his brain to try to remember what he’d done wrong. After the class had all filed out, leaving the two of them alone, he stood and stepped over toward her.  

“Yes professor? Have I done something?” He stated timidly as he braced for a verbal lashing.  

“In a manner of speaking, yes. Tell me Mr. Potter, why did you reverse your successful transfiguration? It was very well done and completed some  time before Miss Granger’s, yet you continued to pretend to struggle with the spell.”   

Harry reeled at the compliment, blushing slightly and unable to meet her eyes as he responded.  

“I was surprised when it happened, and I saw everyone else was struggling and didn’t want to make them feel bad or draw attention to myself.” Because attention means pain , he thought to himself.  

“Well, Mr. Potter, while your intentions were noble and understandable, you are here to learn, as are your classmates. Success will always draw detractors, but others may also learn from it or be encouraged by it. And I will not abide you suppressing your potential and talents out of fear of reprisal in my class. Is that understood?”  

“Yes, Professor. Sorry.” He replied softly.  

“Good. Ten points will be awarded to Ravenclaw for your skillful use of transfiguration as well as the general counter spell. Now, I believe you have another class to get to so I shall hold you no longer. Good day Mr. Potter.” And with that he was dismissed, heading toward Herbology with the Slytherins and feeling vaguely whiplashed.  

Chapter 5: Twinspired Learning

Chapter Text

The most interesting part of the first herbology lesson had been what wasn’t the topic of the lesson. Professor Sprout spent most of the lesson going over the most basic techniques of plant care, stressing the importance of always wearing gloves, and warning which plants in the greenhouses should absolutely not be toyed with if you had any ambitions of living to old age. Harry’s experience in aunt Petunia’s garden had given him more than enough preparation for this lesson’s subject matter. When Professor Sprout set them to planting dittany seeds and transplanting some older specimens into new pots, Harry was idly interested by the new plant but was fairly familiar with its properties after reading through his books over the summer.  

No, the most interesting and amusing part of the lesson were the behaviours of his classmates. Malfoy spent most of the lesson visibly furious and glaring at Harry, until he saw Harry looking and visibly fixed his face in a haughty sneer. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles excessively in an attempt to be intimidating, but lost all its effect when Terry Boot stumbled while carrying a watering can and spilled its contents all over them. Anthony Goldstein seemed to spend the whole lesson muttering to himself and looking distressed, and when Harry offered to help a struggling Daphne Greengrass, she covered her obvious horror at getting dirty with all the regality she could muster.  

As the class departed, Harry made his way to the door before being shoved away by Goyle to allow Malfoy to pass through first, before turning back to speak to Harry.   

“Careful Potter. Consorting with mudbloods and blood traitors can make one terribly accident prone” he spat before turning back and continuing on his way.   

A vision of Dudley’s gang flashed in Harry’s mind, and eleven years of resentment quietly found a new outlet. Waiting for the rest of the class to pass, Harry slowly pulled his wand from his bag. As Harry rounded a corner, he leaned against the wall and aimed, focusing on one petulant blonde boy with all the irritation built by another.  

“Colovaria” he whispered, and stifled his whooping as Malfoy’s pale blonde hair turned  a bright, flaming red.  

It only took a moment for the effect to be noticed. Crabbe and Goyle grabbed at him and pointed, muttering, before the rest of the first years in the corridor broke out in giggles. Even Greengrass seemed to be only barely repressing a smirk that kept briefly breaking through. Stowing his wand, Harry stepped out from around the corner and tried his best to look innocent while containing his own laughter. Malfoy’s eyes locked onto him instantly as he called out.  

“Potter! You did this!”  

“No idea what you’re talking about Malfoy” Harry lied, struggling to keep a straight face. “That’s a good look for you though. Very...vibrant.”   

“You’ll pay for this Potter.”  

“Like I said, I don’t know what you’re talking about Malfoy. I really must be on my way, I’m absolutely famished, I hope they’ve got potatoes for lunch.” Harry replied as casually as he could manage, “So if you don’t mind-” Harry began to panic when he saw Malfoy draw his wand as Crabbe and Goyle moved to block his escape. Amusing as Malfoy’s reaction was, Harry didn’t know how to fight with magic, and he knew he was too small to have much success against Malfoy’s lumbering goons. He was just bracing to run back the way he came and try to find a different route to the great hall when he heard voices call out behind him, interrupting the spectacle.  

“Is that our dear, long lost brother Draco Weasley?”  

“I think it is, Fred”   

“Haven’t seen him in ages, have we George?”  

“Indeed, and yet it still seems not long enough. More’s the pity.”  

Two tall boys with red hair stepped around Harry, standing between Harry and the Slytherins. While still much skinnier, they towered over even Crabbe and Goyle, who looked confused and kept stealing glances at Malfoy, apparently awaiting instruction on how to proceed, as the twins continued.  

“You know aunt Muriel was just asking about you recently” said Fred.  

“It’ll be a shame to tell her how scrawny you’ve gotten” George continued.  

“Naught but skin and bone. Have you been getting enough to eat?”  

“Stay out of this Weasleys” Draco interrupted, voice dripping with disdain. “Potter deserves what’s coming to him.”  

Expelliarmus !” George caught Malfoy’s wand out of the air as Fred responded.  

“Oh come off it Malfoy, it’s just a color change charm, no harm done. We’ll even fix it for you” and Fred waved his wand with a muttered “ finite”  as Malfoy’s hair returned to its pale blonde shade. “All fixed for you.”  

“But not nearly as handsome” George responded with a grin. He extended Malfoy’s wand but  pulling back at the last moment. “You can have this back, but remember it’s not a toy young man.” His voice suddenly grew hard, no longer joking. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” The twins then hooked an arm each through Harry’s and began pulling him along, briefly tossing Malfoy’s wand to him, cheer returning to their mood.  

“Now,” Fred said loudly, “I believe the three of us have an appointment with Hogwarts’ finest cuisine. Good day all.” And with that, Harry was escorted away to the great hall as the watching first years dispersed. After a few moments they engaged Harry in conversation, who was still reeling from his rescue.   

“Ron told us about you, and how you spoiled an excellently planned joke on the train, Harry” Fred began.  

“But we’re pleased to see you’ve got the makings of a fine connoisseur of comedy yourself.” George continued “That spell was well done, and you couldn’t have picked a better target-”  

“A man after our own hearts, you are”  

“-But regrettably, some people just can’t appreciate the quality of a good sense of humor. Have to have an escape plan or be ready to duel when bestowing your gifts upon those with poor taste.” George finished.  

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry said, amused and embarrassed by the boys’ praise and at having to be rescued. “I should’ve thought it through more, I shouldn’t be making trouble on the second day-”  

“Nonsense Harry, it’s never too early to begin building good habits” George responded with a sly grin.  

“And I was just telling George this summer we needed a protege to benefit from our experience and carry on our legacy.”  

“Well, thank you for your help” Harry replied, “What was that spell you used to take Malfoy’s wand?”  

“Ah, that would be Expelliarmus,” Fred answered, ”the disarming charm. Simple but effective. You should be learning it in defense against the dark arts next year.”   

“But I imagine young Mr. Malfoy will not be content to let this offense rest, so it may be best if we assist you in accelerating your education. Let’s just say I don’t think that Quirrel will be showing you advanced defensive spells anytime soon, based on the lesson he gave this morning.”  

“There will be a bit of time after dinner tonight before we’re due back in the dormitories, so we’ll come get you. I’m sure we can use an empty classroom to show you a few things so you’re not defenseless.  

“That would be great! Thank you again.” Harry replied as they entered the great hall.  

Harry said his goodbyes and left them to sit at the Ravenclaw table. He filled his plate with a simple sandwich and some roast vegetables, making a show of enjoying his potatoes as he saw the Slytherin first years enter.  He continued to maintain his innocence as he received praise from Anthony, but Terry was quite vocal about unnecessary troublemaking and dueling in the corridors. Harry conceded that if he had done anything to Malfoy, however deserved, it may not have been particularly well thought out.  

“No need to put our points in the negative so soon” Terry finished, seeming reassured that Harry had seen the error of his ways.  

 Harry had a fair bit of time before charms with the Gryffindors, and wanted to see the Hogwarts library. He looked around for Penelope again to ask if she wouldn’t mind giving him directions again. She was beaming when she told Harry he was the first of the new Ravenclaws to ask, but Harry wondered if that was just because the others had managed to find it on their own. As he prepared to make his way, he stopped by the Gryffindor table to speak with Hermione and Ron.  

“Afternoon Ron, Hermione, Neville. And er, I don’t believe we’ve met” he said to the boy sitting with them.  

“Dean Thomas. And I know who you are” he stated, with a familiar quick look at Harry’s forehead.  

“Pleasure” Harry continued, turning back to Hermione. “Classes go well this morning?”  

“Not particularly” Neville chimed in when Hermione didn’t answer. As Harry paid more attention she seemed to be visibly upset. “We just had potions, and Professor Snape is not the kindest teacher. He was very critical of any of my mistakes, but was particularly harsh toward Hermione, for no real reason. She answered all his questions right and her potion seemed fine.”  

“That’s ridiculous!” Harry exclaimed, feeling outraged. He’d been looking forward to potions, and was dismayed to learn that the professor would likely be making it a miserable time. “Didn’t you say you’ve learned all out books this term by heart? And your needle in transfiguration this morning was perfect, brilliant work by the way.” Hermione blushed and offered a small smile and thanks. “I’m sure next class will be better. Anyway, I know we've got a bit of a gap before we’re due in charms, and I haven’t had a chance to see the library yet. Would any of you like to join me?”   

Hermione visibly perked up at this. While the others declined, she was scrambling to gather her things.   

“Yes of course, I’ve read about it and am so excited to see it! You know it’s supposed to be the largest collection of magical knowledge in Britain. I read about it in Hogwarts, a History .”    

“Well then let’s be off. I don’t imagine we’ll have terribly long but it will be nice to look around a bit.” Harry replied.  

“Harry,” Neville chimed in, “why’s  Malfoy glaring at you? He hasn’t taken his eyes off you the whole time you’ve been here.”  

“His hair may have spontaneously changed colour, and it’s possible he erroneously blamed me. I know, I know,” Harry replied to Hermione’s gasps as the rest chuckled, “I’ve already been appropriately chastised Hermione.”  

“So that’s what Fred and George were talking about.” Said Ron. “ They stopped by to let me know they were glad to know I had a good influence and they couldn’t be prouder of my choice of associates.”   

At this the boys roared with laughter while Hermione sniffed.  

“Well, I don’t think breaking rules is terribly responsible of you, but as long as it doesn’t happen again. Shall we Harry?”  

--  

Harry’s jaw dropped when he entered the library. It was incredible. Towering shelves stretching into the distance unimaginably far. They were calling him, begging him to consume their contents, to drink in their knowledge. Scents of parchment and leather and rich wood hung heavy in the air, sweet, delicious, intoxicating. The hand that tightly gripped his arm told him Hermione was having a similar experience next to him, before she realized what she’d done and let go with an apologetic look. A few older students were scattered among the shelves, already deeply engrossed in a book or writing, quills scratching furiously. A short way in the librarian, madam Pince, peered around at the students as if waiting for the opportunity to swoop down like some great eagle and cast them out of her domain. Harry thought wistfully of Alice and wondered if he’d ever have properly appreciated the place he found himself in if she hadn’t saved him that day.  

“I don’t even know where to start. It’s beautiful.” Harry choked out.  

“Mmhmm.” Was all Hermione could manage.  

“Well, erm, there’s some tables over there” he said pointing, “do you want to look around and meet there in say, twenty minutes? We can start working on McGonagall’s essay together and I wanted to review what you went over in potions, if that’s alright?”  

“Er, yes, of course, that’s a great idea Harry. I’ll see you there” she replied, setting off at a brisk walk, eyes flickering rapidly around the room.  

Harry meandered idly down the shelves, scanning titles and occasionally pulling a book down, turning a few pages before quickly realizing he was out of his depth. He hoped it was only a temporary feeling, because some of the books looked incredibly interesting, if he could just wrap his head around the contents. Even through his frustration, however, he felt a sense of peace and belonging.   

Harry quickly realized that twenty minutes was practically no time at all, and quickly made his way back to the tables where he’d agreed to meet Hermione. He sat down across from her and leaned in to whisper.  

“There’s so much here I want to read but a lot of it’s beyond me. If only there was a way to learn faster so I could jump ahead.”  

“I know what you mean.” Hermione paused for a moment to think, before continuing. “There is a wit sharpening potion, but it’s supposed to be really advanced.”  

Harry groaned. “Maybe I’ll ask Professor Snape tomorrow how early we can learn it.” He noticed Hermione frown a bit at the mention of Snape, but Harry continued nonetheless. “That reminds me, can you tell me what you went over in potions today? I want to prepare as much as I can ahead of time.”  

“Oh, yes. It was just a potion to cure boils, I think it’s the third potion in Magical Drafts and Potions . Professor Snape puts it on the board in the class as well. You know how to get to the potions class, don’t you? It’s in the dungeons.”  

“Yeah, I had Penelope, she’s one of our prefects, Penelope Clearwater, write out directions to all my classes for me. She’s been very helpful.”  

“Ron’s brother Percy mentioned her as well, spoke quite highly of her. He’s one of our prefects as well.” Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head. “Do you mind going over what you learned with Professor Sprout?”  

“Of course. Nothing too advanced, mostly just learning the basics for caring for plants, how to repot them, general safety in the greenhouses. That sort of thing. She did teach us about Dittany and have us repotting and planting it, so expect to get dirty. Make sure to walk carefully too, it was a bit of a madhouse at first while we were learning where everything is. Actually, Hermione, do you have that household charms book? I think I remember a spell that could be helpful.”  

Harry waited while she pulled out the book, setting it on the table between them. Harry flipped through the pages before finding his target. “Ah, here it is. The Scouring Charm.” Harry studied the book for a few moments, before handing it back for Hermione to review. “Wand movement is a sort of ‘S’ shape… and then… Scourgify!” He cast, pointing his wand at a spot on the floor. A few suds sprang from his wand onto the floor, accomplishing not much of anything before quickly vanishing.  

“Guess I’ll need to practice that a bit more before it’s useful.” Harry said.  

“It was really good for a first attempt” Hermione reassured him. “I’m sure it’ll come in very handy. Thank you again for letting me borrow this, and the heads up about Herbology.” She glanced down at her watch before continuing. “We’re not due in charms for about an hour yet. Would you like to work together on the transfiguration paper?”  

“As good a time as any to start it.” Harry replied.   

They passed the next hour trudging through Magical Theory and A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration , slowly but surely forcing their way through McGonagall’s required twelve inches, comparing notes along the way and offering feedback.  

“Yours is much more detailed than mine” Harry complained.   

“Yes but yours is very concise” she retorted, “I always heard growing in up in muggle schools that my writing was very flowery.” A sour note tinged the end of her sentence.  

“It seemed to rely a lot on how you think about the object, if that makes sense? At least for me, the match didn’t fully change into a needle until I sort of believed in its potential to become a needle.”   

“Wait, when did you transfigure your match? I thought I was the only one.” Hermione replied with a frown.  

“Oh this morning, I just panicked and transfigured it back. That’s why McGonagall held me back, to ream me out about ‘suppressing my potential’” Harry stated casually.  

“Harry, that’s excellent, you should be really proud!” She squealed, earning a sharp look from madam Pince.  

“That’s what I’ve been told. It’s just a strange experience. Achieving something usually came with a cost that made it not worth it. Anyway, we should be off if we want to make it to Charms on time.  

--  

Despite their concerns, Harry and Hermione were the first to arrive in Professor Flitwick’s class, and chose to sit together for the lesson. Once all the students had filed in, Flitwick informed them they would be starting with something simple and immediately useful: the wand lighting charm, and its counter. Harry and Hermione achieved success almost immediately, earning five points each and a joyful congratulations from Flitwick. The rest of the class had varied success, with a brief fire from Seamus Finnegan’s attempts, but by the end of class everyone had successfully mastered Lumos and Nox .  Once Flitwick dismissed them, Harry and Hermione chatted as they made their way down to dinner. Ron was pointedly not walking with them, and Harry suspected that Hermione’s attempts to help him had been received less than enthusiastically.   

Hermione broke off for the dorms along with the other Gryffindors to drop her bag, while Harry continued down to the great hall alone. He sat and ate quickly, eager to make the most of his lessons with Fred and George. He didn’t have to wait long after finishing before he spotted them walking over to him, Ron in tow. Eating, thankfully, seemed to have helped Ron’s mood. Harry followed them out of the great hall and down a corridor to an unused classroom, setting his bag on top of a desk. The twins had cleared  a large circle in the center of the class, and turned to address Ron and Harry.  

“So we’ve given it some thought-“ began Fred.  

“And we’ve got a couple spells we can try to teach you.”  

“They’re not terribly complicated or dangerous so you shouldn’t be able to hurt yourself too badly-”  

“But they should be useful for avoiding or getting out of a sticky situation.”  

“Now, the first spell is going to be expelliarmus , which you saw earlier Harry.”  

“You did?” Ron cut in.  

“Er, yeah, they used it on Malfoy before he could curse me in the corridor after herbology.” Harry replied.  

“As we were saying,” Fred continued, rolling his eyes, “expelliarmus is useful for finishing or preventing a fight because a wandless wizard is a useless wizard.”  

“Go ahead and get your wands out and follow what I do. It’s a sort of curved flick with your wrist, like the top part of a question mark” George said.  

“It helped me to imagine a sort of ⁸rope connecting the two wands and you’re trying to yank theirs away with yours.”  

Harry and Ron stood across from one another and practiced, initially not achieving much beyond a gentle tug, but after some time they were fairly reliably disarming one another. Once they were satisfied, the twins moved on to teaching the knockback jinx, Flipendo and the smokescreen spell, Fumos .  

“Now,” Fred explained, “these will be good for building some variety and versatility.”  

“The last thing you want to be in a duel is predictable” George agreed. “And fumos is good for repositioning, running away-“  

“Or concealing any activities that teachers may not approve of.” Fred said with a wink. “You’ll still want to try to not get hit if anyone is throwing something nastier at you.”  

Harry continued to practice with Ron, and once they were fairly comfortable with their progress, they split to try a few rounds against the twins. Harry could tell that they were going easy on him, but he appreciated the chance to practice and get a feel for the spells against a more skilled opponent.  

Eventually, the night dragged on and Harry found himself stifling a yawn, and the twins declared that was good enough for the night. Harry thanked them again for the lesson and said his goodbyes, making his way toward Ravenclaw tower. He felt thoroughly tired but immensely satisfied by all he’d learned that day, and fell into his bed with thoughts of Malfoy coughing in a cloud of smoke before being blasted onto his back, drifting off into a deep sleep.  

Chapter 6: Potential Potions

Chapter Text

Harry entered the dungeons the next morning with trepidation. He knew from the looks Malfoy gave him in the corridor that reprisal would be coming at some point, and he was anxiously alert for any sign of trouble, feeling like a rabbit that knows it’s being hunted. He hoped the lesson at least would go well. The subject had interested him the more he read and learned about it, especially as he’d started to notice connections between the different properties of ingredients and the potions they were used in. Muggle herbalists were remarkably close to being correct about the properties of a number of plants and herbs in their own way, but Harry suspected the use of a wand in nearly every potion recipe meant that they’d never be able to properly make the most of them. Maybe some knowledge had been retained from before wizards went into hiding several hundred years before. Some of the ingredients seemed downright vile, and Harry sincerely hoped the potion-making process somehow made them more palatable for drinking. Leech juice, bubotuber pus, flobberworm mucous? Disgusting.

Harry had reviewed the recipe for the cure for boils, before idly looking through the other recipes in Magical Drafts and Potions at breakfast, and come away with several questions that he hoped Professor Snape could answer for him. The wideye potion he’d seen toward the middle of the book seemed especially interesting, and Harry was already beginning to ponder its usefulness for late-night and early morning studying. He’d also made a point to ask Professor Snape about the wit sharpening potion Hermione had mentioned. Would it be safe to attempt it early? Was making potions outside of class allowed? How could he get more ingredients? And why did wizards use quills instead of pens or pencils, because the number of times Harry had nearly lost his train of thought because he had to stop writing to carefully ink his quill without spilling excess ink everywhere was so infuriating, why was there not a less tedious way of doing this?

Only Hermione had seemed sympathetic to his complaints when he stopped to greet her at breakfast.

Harry took his seat in the potions classroom at a table with Daphne Greengrass, and Blaise Zabini, receiving a brief nod from Zabini and no acknowledgement at all from Greengrass. She had tied her dark chocolate coloured hair back, restraining it with an elaborate series of braids. Harry was hopeful that Professor Snape would be in better spirits than he had been with the Gryffindors yesterday.

Harry was wrong.

Professor Snape stepped swiftly into the room a few minutes later, slamming the door with a wave of his wand and speaking clearly as he strode to the front of the class.

“There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class.” Snape began.

That can’t be right, nearly every potion requires wand waving, Harry thought to himself. Snape continued.

“I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.”

Harry thought that the last part of his sentence was a clear reference to poison, but wondered if bottling fame and brewing glory were actual potions that could be made or just a metaphor. He began adding that to his list of questions when he felt a shadow fall over him and heard the crescendo of Snape’s voice in front of him.

“-To not pay attention!” Snape was standing just in front of him, the entire class watching the exchange. “Mr. Potter. Our new celebrity.” Snape’s voice dripped with disdain, his lip curled like he was smelling something unpleasant. Malfoy looked like Christmas had come early.

“Tell me Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Harry knew this! He wracked his brain, trying to remember where he knew those ingredients.

‘Crush the wormwood, add to cauldron. Stir slowly.

Chop the valerian, add to cauldron, and apply a high heat.

Juice your Flobberworm and add its thick mucus to your cauldron.

Add a sprinkle of powdered asphodel petals and a dash of essence of nettle.

Solution should be a dark violet when complete. Adding a small dose to food

or drink will cause one to fall into a deep but temporary sleep. For greater

effect, drink potion directly.’

“Er, it’s a sleeping potion, right?” Harry replied. Snape seemed to grow furious at this, but didn’t answer, instead asking another question.

“Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”

“Erm, I don’t know sir.” At, this, a smirk seemed to appear and then be hidden that Harry wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it.

“And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

“Oh, that one’s a trick question” Harry responded. “Monkshood and wolfsbane are actually the same plant. It also goes by aconite, and it’s one of the main ingredients in the wolfsbane potion that werewolves can take.” Harry was enormously grateful that his prereading of his history of magic text had been useful, but it was short-lived as Harry shrank from the look Snape gave him. Harry began to suspect that the questions were never actually meant to test his knowledge, and defiant frustration began to settle alongside the anxiety he felt.

Snape looked into his eyes for a moment, but seemed to be looking through Harry instead, before speaking again.

“Pity. Clearly fame isn’t everything. You are correct that asphodel and wormwood are ingredients in most potions that put the drinker to sleep,” Snape began. “ Powdered asphodel root and wormwood infusion are specifically combined in an enormously powerful potion called the draught of living death. Such a lack of attention to detail when brewing potions can cause devastation to yourself as well as anyone unfortunate enough to be near you. A bezoar is a stone found in the stomach of a goat and is used as a simple antidote to most common poisons. And yes, monkshood, wolfsbane, and aconite are all separate names for the same plant. Two points to Ravenclaw for your insight into modern applications of potions. And ten points from Ravenclaw for your lack of attention to detail. May it be a lesson to you going forward.”

Harry was seething at Snape’s pettiness. He’d been mostly correct, and Snape hadn’t bothered to test anyone else on their knowledge, yet Harry had been made the cause of his house losing points. Snape watch him for a moment, before turning to look around the class.

“Well? Why aren’t you all writing this down?” Snape returned to the front of the class and waved his wand at the board, setting chalk to writing out instructions Harry recognized already. He tried to set aside his anger to focus, before more questions occurred to him to be added to his list.

The rest of the class revolved around brewing their cure for boils, and Harry was glad Hermione had forewarned him as he watched the rest of the class struggle. He tried to strike up polite conversation with the Slytherins next to him, but they were largely uninterested in speaking, save when he had complimented Daphne on the precision of her cutting of ingredients.

“Thank you” she said softly, “my father’s business is in potions and ingredient supply. They ensured I arrived with high quality instruments.”

Harry eyed her knife and noticed that its edge gleamed brightly, and it had a much more ornate handle than his simple black one. Their conversation ended there, and eventually as class came to a close Snape came around to inspect everyone’s potions. Most of the class did not receive positive remarks, and Harry noticed that Professor Snape had a clear bias for Slytherin. As he complimented Daphne’s “excellent work” and begrudgingly described Harry’s as acceptable, Harry couldn’t help but feel a surge of triumph.

After Snape had dismissed the class, Harry approached nervously. His palms were a bit clammy and he felt the same desire to brace for an outburst that he had when speaking to uncle Vernon. Steeling himself as best he could before his nerve left him, and spoke.

“Professor Snape? I was wondering, if it’s alright that is, I have a few questions about potions?”

Snape regarded him for a moment before speaking. “Make it quick Potter, I shall have another class along soon and I will not write a note excusing your tardiness to your next lesson.”

“Yes sir. Thank you. First, I was wondering if there’s any rules about practicing and making potions outside of class? I know Greengrass’ potion was better than mine, but the only way I can improve is more practice. And how do I get more ingredients? I bought what was on my list in Diagon alley but I assume that will only cover the potions we make in lessons, and obviously I don’t want to fail the class due to using up all my ingredients early.” Harry paused, realizing he was rambling and he was beginning to talk far too fast. He forced himself to close his mouth and wait for a response.

“Officially, there is no school rule against making potions in your own time, but there are some concoctions that are prohibited or that will be viewed with suspicion. You will also be putting yourself at greater risk making potions without oversight, and will be solely responsible for the consequences should you make a mistake. It is therefore highly advised that you contain your activities to the class. I provide additional lessons to students who show themselves to be exceptionally competent, as well as remedial lessons to those whose performance is far below expectations. As far as ingredients are concerned, you can order them from Diagon alley or any other reputable supplier by owl, and they can have the funds withdrawn directly from your vault.”

Harry took a moment to process this information before responding. “Great. Wonderful. Next question. My aunt Petunia often makes me cook the meals for everyone, but she gets upset when I cut the ingredients too small because, while they cook through faster that way, they also burn faster. Is it the same with potions? Will cutting the ingredients into finer pieces make it brew faster but then spoil faster? Or does it not matter?”

Snape looked thoughtfully at Harry for a moment, quietly muttering “Your aunt Petunia…” and he had that same sensation, like Snape was looking through him instead of at him.

 

Snape then inhaled sharply and responded. “Generally, there is no benefit or harm in cutting your ingredients into large or small pieces, as long as your measurements are correct according to the recipe. It is a good habit to build to ensure that, large or small, you cut uniformly. And, as I get this question virtually every year, your ingredients are transmuted by the brewing process. Your potion’should properties will vary based on the type of potion and the skill of the brewer, but it is a magical concoction, not a soup made from the mixture of ingredients.”

“Oh, thank you, that was actually my next question. Now, I was in the library yesterday with Hermione Granger, and we were discussing how the books there were so advanced that we didn’t think we’d get a chance to read and appreciate them enough, and then we were discussing different ways to learn faster so we could get there sooner-“

“Your question, Mr. Potter?”

“Right, yes, sorry. How long until we can brew a wit sharpening potion?”

Professor Snape managed to look surprised at that, his eyes going ever so slightly wider. “That potion is very advanced. It is generally taught in fifth year, in preparation to O.W.L. exams. Furthermore, like many performance-enhancing potions, it can be dangerously addictive with overuse, leading to heavy reliance on it for normal function and very unpleasant withdrawal should you stop using it. I would recommend looking into a safer option for your goals at this time. Your textbook contains recipes for the wideye potion as well as the pepper up potion, which should, with careful brewing and moderation, provide the study aide you seek. Now, I believe that it is time you departed for your next class.” Snape gestured toward the open door, and Harry understood that he was dismissed. He was frustrated that he still had questions, but he’d just have to ask then some other time.

“Of course. Thank you for all your help sir. I look forward to the next lesson” and Harry briefly bowed his head, confused why he’d done it as it happened, and turned to exit the class. Harry made sure to look both ways as he stepped out of the class, half expecting Malfoy to curse him in the corridor, and then turned to make his toward his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

--

Professor Quirrell was a perpetually nervous sort of man, often seeming only half there, and throughout his lesson he gave the impression that the students he taught were far more frightening than the dark arts he taught about. There were a number of dangerous magical beings in the world in addition to dark wizards, he explained, and while one day the students would be capable of adequately defending themselves, for now the best use of their time would be in first learning to call for help and escape danger. With that, he set about having the class practice casting red and green sparks from their wand, which could act as a signal, as well as surprising and distracting their attacker.

“Y-y-you will w-wave your wand in a d-d-diag-gonal slashing motion. Vermillious for r-r-red s-sparks and verdimillious f-for g-g-green. O-on you go!” he explained, and in time the class was filled with blinding flares of red and green light. It quickly escalated into some of the students deliberately targeting one another across the classroom, before Professor Quirrell stopped them all and dismissed them with an instruction to read the first three chapters of Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by the next class. Harry had already done so, but it couldn’t hurt to skim over it again to refresh his memory, he thought.

As Harry left the classroom, there were still periodic flares of green and red in the corridor from the enthusiastic first-years. Harry grinned as he watched, before pulling out his own wand.

“Fumos!”

A cloud of thick gray fog erupted from the end of his wand, rapidly filling the corridor. There were a few cries of surprise, and then the sparks continued to fly, now illuminating the cloud with dazzling dispersed light. By the time Harry reached the end of the corridor he’d begun to develop a headache and a few bright spots in his vision, and pondered the unpleasant learning experience as he made his way to the great hall.

Harry sat down at the Ravenclaw table near the other first-years, who quickly began discussing the potions lesson that morning. It was generally agreed that Snape had been enormously unfair, but Harry was gratified when Anthony praised his advanced knowledge during Snape’s questioning. When Harry explained that some of it had come from reading muggle books that just happened to be relevant in addition to pre-reading their textbooks, they all expressed surprise. Nobody had thought much about Harry’s life before Hogwarts and they were shocked to learn he’d been raised by muggles. Apparently, the Potters were an old ‘Pureblood’ family, and it had been assumed Harry had been raised by wizards even if his parents were gone.

“Well,” he explained, “I was raised by my aunt and uncle who thought they could beat the magic out of me, and I didn’t even know I had magic. I actually thought my Hogwarts letter was a prank when I first read it. But once I found out it was real I wanted to know everything I could about it.”

“So who’s your favorite professor so far?” Anthony asked.

“Professor Flitwick, I think. He’s just so eager and cheerful. It's infectious. He just makes you want to do well, like he believes you’ll be successful so you believe you can be too, if that makes sense.” Harry replied.

“No bonuses for guessing least favorite” Terry Boot chimed in, drawing a round of laughter from the table.

“Professor Snape is very harsh. He was helpful when I came to him with questions after class at least. McGonagall seems like she could be just as strict if you catch her on a bad day though.”

“How did Quirrell even get the job? Does anyone actually believe he could fight vampires and werewolves and other monsters?” Terry said.

“At least he’s not Binns” Padma added. “I’ve heard he’s dreadfully boring.”

“Binns?” Harry asked.

“He taches History of Magic” she answered. “He was the ghost at the teacher’s table the start of term feast. I imagine he doesn’t need to come to all the meals since he doesn’t eat. Apparently he taught the subject when he was alive, and just kept doing it after he died. Didn’t even know it happened for some time.”

“Ah. Yes, I read through that book as well, but it definitely took the longest. Very dense, and I don’t remember much about it at the moment, other than there seemed to be quite a lot of goblin rebellions. But I imagine it must be useful to learn. Those that don’t know their history and all that.”

There was a pause and some confused looks, before Anthony spoke up. “Er, what’s that?”

“Those that don’t know their history are doomed to repeat it. Do people not say that here? It’s a pretty common saying with muggles. Well, the academically minded ones I suppose. I’ve met a fair few that are too daft to comprehend why learning history might be beneficial.”

“Oh, I suppose that makes sense” Anthony replied cheerfully.

When Harry had met his fill, he looked around, scanning the other tables. Malfoy was talking animatedly to Crabbe, Gayle, and Parkinson, and when Harry caught Daphne’s eye he offered a polite smile. She turned away without acknowledgement and spoke to a girl with curly black hair sitting next to her, who was engaged in an apparently energetic conversation with Blaise sitting across from her.

Behind him, Harry turned and looked at the Gryffindor table. He saw the elder Weasleys clustered together, and the eldest one (Percy?) was apparently telling off the twins for some transgression. Harry frowned when he saw no sign of Hermione, before realizing she probably skipped lunch to spend it in the library. When Harry suggested a trip to the library to work on Quirrell’s assignment, he was met with hearty agreement and the Ravenclaws all began gathering their things and standing. Harry extended an invitation to Ron as well, who was initially reluctant, but agreed to join with some prodding from Neville. Neville, who had heard from Hermione about their trip to the library the day before, was eager to have Harry’s help with potions to prepare for the next lesson. Harry gathered a few meat pies for Hermione from the table in front of Ron and wrapped them to put in his bag. Turning back to the Slytherin table and offering a smirk and an eager wave to Daphne again, drawing a frown that was gone as quickly as it appeared this time, Harry joined his classmates and they were off.

--

The first few weeks of term at Hogwarts passed relatively quickly for Harry, and going to the library together quickly became a regular occurrence for the Ravenclaw first-years after lunch. Madam Pince was horrified at such a large group at first, but they quickly earned her approval after showing an appreciation for quiet study, especially when the group simultaneously put a stop to a debate about something called the cannons between Ron and Terry that was becoming loud and distracting. Hermione seemed pleased to be around other likeminded students, and Harry got the feeling that she, like him, had spent a good amount of time isolated because of her intellect and success. Everyone also found that studying together meant that learning came easier, and comparing notes and looking over one another’s work was a quickly accepted norm. Ron seemed to be reluctant to study properly at first, but even he succumbed to the peer pressure and was less vocal with his complaints, though he declined in favor of spending time with Finnegan and Thomas about half the time.

Friday evening Harry was returning to the common room before dinner when he saw the other first years crowded around the notice board, where the announcement that flying lessons would begin the following week had been posted. He joined them in the discussion, impulsively turning a chair a bright lime green colour along the way, and they brought him up to speed on the topic. Apparently there was major wizarding sport called quidditch that was played on broomsticks, and each house had a team. First years weren’t permitted to bring their own brooms or join the teams, a fact that a few students complained loudly about. At Harry’s request the game was explained and the team members sitting around the common room were pointed out, including the newest member, a girl with straight black hair named Cho who had just joined as seeker.

As the great eagle door opened and admitted Penelope, Harry parted from the group and went to speak with her.

“Hi Penelope” he said.

“Hello Harry” she greeted him, with a polite smile as always. “How are you? How was your first week?”

“It was great thanks. A couple rough patches here and there but I seem to be getting by alright. I think working together on coursework has been really helpful as well.”

“I had noticed your little study group in the library. I think it’s an excellent idea, and forming those bonds with your classmates will be good for all of you.”

“That actually brings us to what I wanted to speak with you about. I can read the book, but I can’t just practice potion-making the way I can my other classes. Not without ingredients, at least, but I don’t really know how to place an order or where to send it to.”

“Oh, we actually keep catalogs for most of the shops in diagon alley around, as well as a few in hogsmeade. You won’t be able to visit hogsmeade until third year, but if you’ve got the coin you can still place an order. Diagon alley, they’ll just have Gringotts transfer the galleons straight from your vault.” She looked around the room briefly, before returning with a catalog of ingredients and prices. “Here you are. Mulpepper’s Apothecary in Diagon should suit your needs best. Just fill out your order on some parchment and post it by owl. If you don’t have your own owl you can use one of the school owls up in the owlery, they’ll know where to go. Mulpepper’s is usually pretty food at getting your ingredients to you within a day or so, as long as it’s not something too rare, but none of the potions you’re likely to work with should require those for a very long time. Was there anything else?”

“Er, yes, actually. Do you know anyone who could help me or perhaps tutor me in potions? There’s a few I’m interested in learning to make, but Professor Snape warned me against making them unsupervised until I was more experienced.”

“Which potions did you have in mind” Harry thought he detected a hint of suspicion under her cheerful question, but pressed on anyway.

“Most of the ones we make in class” he replied, “but Professor Snape also advised against making wit-sharpening potions for now when I asked, and recommended wideye and pepperup potions as a study aide alternative. And then I’ll look through my Practical Potions book and see if there are any more useful ones I’d like to learn to make.”

“Oh that should be no trouble” she said, “tell you what, give me a couple days to get settled in, I’ve got my O.W.L.s this year, but I’ll let you know when I can make time to teach you. Professor Snape trusts me to be competent, so I’m sure if I assure him I’ll supervise you, he’ll allow me to use the potions classroom. Plus, teaching you will help me review the material myself. It’s a win/win.”

“Fantastic!” Harry replied. “Would it be alright if I invited someone else?”

“As long as it’s only one, two people max. It wouldn’t be sage for me to be responsible for more than that. There is a Potions club as well, for like-minded people. It’s somewhat small, Professor Snape is brilliant but his demeanor can leave a bad taste in people’s mouth, but participation will certainly help you form good habits and connections and likely help you get on the closest thing he has to a good side.” She finished the last statement with a wink. “If you’re interested, I’ll get in touch with one of the members and find out when they’ll be meeting this term for you”

“That would be very helpful. I'm going to go have a look through this, but thanks again!” Harry waved and departed to his dormitory. As he sat at his desk, he pored over the catalogue and his potion books, preparing a list of ingredients , herbs, and reagents to have Hedwig deliver in the morning.

Harry woke at dawn and hurried down to the great hall. He pocketed a few pieces of bacon for Hedwig and a bottle of cold pumpkin juice, stuffing some sausages between toast to eat on the way to the owlery. The sun was just starting to come into view over the mountains as Harry stepped out of the castle, casting a large shadow over one half of the valley while the far side was bathed in soft light. Midday would still be quite warm, but mornings and evenings had started to get colder as summer came to a close, and Harry enjoyed the cool breezes coming off the lake as he walked. He stepped into the owlery, pulling out a piece of bacon and holding it aloft as he called out.

“Hedwig!” He was answered by a short screech before the snowy owl glided down, snatching the bacon from his hand before settling onto a perch before him. Once she’d finished he offered her another, chuckling when she greedily grabbed it in her beak, before he spoke again. “I’ve got something I need you to take to Mulpepper’s in Diagon alley. Will you be able to find that?” Harry threw his hands up at the look Hedwig gave him, before offering the last piece of bacon to get back in her good graces. He tied his order to her leg and gently stroked her feathers for a moment, before allowing her to fly off into the distance. He stood still for a moment, watching her soar high above the valley before disappearing from view. Harry thought with a small pang of jealousy about what it must feel like to be a bird, being carried on the wind by outstretched wings. At least, he thought, wizards seemed to get the better deal with food. Treacle tart, bacon, and roast potatoes were much preferable to the small animals he knew made up most of Hedwig’s diet. Harry looked idly around at the scattered droppings and animal bones on the floor around him, and took the opportunity to practice the scouring charm. He still had room for improvement, but be was satisfied that the owlery was noticeably cleaner now, if not spotless. A far cry from the sloppy suds he’d sprayed in the library weeks ago.

Harry made his way down from the owlery toward Hagrid’s hut. Surrounded by a large crop of the biggest pumpkins Harry had ever seen, Harry thought it might be a pleasant place to study. Hagrid was chopping wood outside with an axe as long as Harry was tall, and Harry watched Fang being toyed with by a pair of ravens that seemed to enjoy tugging on his tail whenever his back was turned.

Harry greeted Hagrid and asked if he minded Harry using his garden for schoolwork, and promised he’d stay out of the way. Hagrid, of course, couldn’t be happier to have Harry nearby, and returned to chopping wood as Harry put his back to one of the great pumpkins, pulling out quills and parchment and setting about writing an essay for professor Flitwick on the mending charm. After a moment, Harry felt a tugging on his hair, and turned around with a start to see one of the ravens hopping away, chased by Fang, who came and sat against Harry’s leg and received several vigorous scratches behind the ears a moment later.

When Harry had finished his essay, he stood and began throwing some of the sticks Hagrid had shaved from the logs for Fang. When Fang snapped one in half, Harry gave his wand a wave and a “Reparo” to mend it for practice. After finishing a pile of split logs Harry was sure was enough to build an entire new room on Hagrid’s hut, Hagrid invited him inside for tea.

“Term going all right Harry?” Hagrid said as he poured Harry’s tea before offering Harry some rock cakes that Harry was far too polite to decline. Harry made a show of enjoying one, briefly wondering if reparo worked on teeth, as Hagrid sat across from him.

“Yes actually, quite well, thanks” Harry responded after swallowing. “I’m enjoying most of my classes. Astronomy isn’t as exciting as I hoped unfortunately. The muggles actually seem to be doing way more interesting things than what professor Sinistra teaches.” He shrugged at the doubtful look Hagrid gave him. “And I don’t think I’d be doing nearly as well in history of magic without the Ravenclaw study group. I mean, it’s not just Ravenclaws, we’ve got a few Gryffindors too, Hermione and Neville, and Ron comes sometimes as well. Ernie MacMillan from Hufflepuff came the other day too, but he didn’t stay very long. But I certainly would be struggling much more without them. It should be such an interesting subject but Binns is just so dreadfully boring to listen to. But I’m enjoying potions and seem to be getting better at it. Professor Snape hasn’t taken points from me all week, and Penelope Clearwater has agreed to start giving me extra lessons for practice. She says it'll help her review as well, and she’s helping me join the potions club as well. I was actually just coming from sending Hedwig for more ingredients when I arrived earlier.”

“Professor Snape not having anything to criticise is high praise from him” Hagrid commented with a wink, “and I overheard Professor Flitwick boasting about your ‘exemplary performance’ to McGonagall at dinner too. Said it was one of the finest examples of a severing charm he’d seen from a first year.”

“I had a lot of help from Hermione with that honestly” Harry said quietly, going slightly red but unable to resist grinning. “We asked Professor Sprout if there was anything we could practice on, and spent hours in the greenhouse trimming plants.”

“Well it’s good to see you’re settling in well. As long as you’re not getting into any more trouble with any redheaded Slytherins, that is.”

“You heard about that?” Harry asked sheepishly. “Yes, I’ve been keeping my head down. Fred and George taught me a few defensive spells and every now and then they’ll let me test out some of their other joke products. Not on anyone!” Harry quickly reassured as he saw Hagrid’s raised eyebrow. “Most of it is like, sweets that do something funny but harmless when you eat them, and ask me about how it feels and such. I think they do most of their testing on themselves and only have we help working out the last small details. They gave me a scone the other day that gave me great huge ears, but they already had the cure ready, just wanted to know if it was too painful, if I could still hear well, that sort of thing.”

Hagrid nodded and sat back, and Harry sipped his tea and forced down another rock cake. They sat there quietly for several minutes, and Harry enjoyed the quiet. As he listened to the gently crackling fire and breathed in the oaky scent of the smoke, he felt himself relax and let his mind wander, meandering through potions recipes, spells he wanted to start practicing, before settling on Hagrid’s voice rising to the front of his memory, words he’d said the day they met.

“Say, Hagrid”

“Hmmph?” he grunted in acknowledgement.

“Do you mind telling me a bit about dragons? Muggles have tons of stories about them, but they’re all different. Some have 2 legs, some have 4, some can talk. What are the real ones like?”

Even Harry’s thirst for knowledge wasn’t up to the task of containing the floodgates he’d just opened, as Hagrid went on a thoroughly exhaustive impromptu lesson on dragons that carried on even as the sun started to sink low in the sky outside. But as Hagrid spoke, with a light in his eyes that was becoming more and more familiar to Harry, he couldn’t help but briefly and enthusiastically share in Hagrid’s wonder and love for the ‘marvelous beasts’. Their conversation continued even as they walked together back to the castle for dinner, before Harry bid him goodnight before taking a seat at the Ravenclaw table.

Chapter 7: Gravity Optional

Chapter Text

Harry sat weightless and elated in the late morning sun, far above the ground. Cries of fear and excitement in equal measure reached him periodically as Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students slowly joined him in the air, but none rose as high as he had. A few moments later a whistle blew, and he leaned forward and guided the broom smoothly back to the ground. As he landed he heard Madam Hooch address him.  

“Potter, nicely done, but not quite so high just yet. I understand your enthusiasm, we’ll get there eventually.”  

The rest of the class saw the students practicing taking off and landing, before moving on to basic maneuvers around the large grassy field they’d met in. By the end of class Madam Hooch had them doing laps in formations, before once again calling for the students to land for a final time, and taking their brooms back. Harry was still daydreaming about the feeling of the wind rushing against him, and the ease with which the broom had leapt into his hand, when he entered the great hall for lunch.    

The Gryffindor first years were all sporting scowls when he entered, while Hermione’s brow was furrowed with concern. He made his way to greet them, scooping food onto a plate and taking a seat next to Seamus.  

“What’s going on? You lot look miserable.” Harry began.  

“Flying class was ruined” Ron answered glumly.  

“It was really bad” Hermione added. “Neville lost control of his broom and crashed. Madam Hooch rushed him to the hospital wing and then told us class was canceled when she came back.”  

“Malfoy was having a laugh about it once Hooch left. Git. I should’ve hexed him” Ron continued.  

“No,” she spat with a glare, “you would’ve gotten into so much trouble and probably lost Gryffindor a lot of points!”  

Ron shrugged at that and gave Harry a look, but Harry found the chicken on his plate especially interesting at that moment. When he had finished eating and discussing his own experience in his first flying lesson to the envious Gryffindors, he wiped his mouth with a napkin before standing.  

“Well, I’m going to check on Neville. Anyone want to join me?” Harry asked. Hermione volunteered immediately, before being joined by Ron, Seamus, and Dean.  Once everyone had gathered their things, they set off for the hospital wing.  

Madam Pomfrey gave the group a suspicious look as they entered, but seeing that none of them were in need of medical attention, she continued about her business. Neville was seated upright in bed, a large plate with a variety of sandwiches and a bowl of chips on a table next to him. A potion sat half drank on his nightstand, and he was engrossed in his herbology textbook. He looked and smiled brightly as they entered.  

“Hi everyone!” Neville said cheerfully, “what are you doing here?”  

“We came to check on you.” Hermione paused. “It was Harry’s idea, but we were all worried about you.”  

“Oh, thanks, that’s really nice of all of you, but I’m alright.” Neville responded. “Doesn’t really hurt that much anymore, and Madam Pomfrey said I should be able to leave by dinner.”  

“Well that’s good” said Harry. “I’m sure you’ll be better than ever in your next lesson.”  

“Yeah, of course” Neville said unconvinced. “Say, have you lot seen my remembrall anywhere? It's a sort of glass ball full of smoke. Gran got it for me to help me remember things, but I seem to have misplaced it.”  

“Oh, that’s what that was” Seamus muttered.  

“What’s that Seamus?” Neville asked.  

“Oh, nothing. We’ll keep an eye out, it’s bound to turn up eventually.”  

Harry grabbed a vase and with an uttered “ orchideous”  placed the conjured flowers in it. The group said their goodbye’s to Neville and departed, promising to see him at dinner. Hermione immediately set off for the library, while Seamus pulled Harry and Ron aside as they departed the hospital wing.  

“Malfoy’s got Neville’s remembrall” he said. “I saw him pick it up and pocket it during the lesson once Madam Hooch had gone, but I didn’t know it was Neville’s.” He finished.  

Harry grit his teeth for a moment before looking between Ron and Seamus. “Well then we’ll just get it back.”  

“How are you going to do that?” Seamus responded incredulously. “He’s not just going to give it back because we asked.”  

Harry grinned wickedly as he looked at Ron. “Actually, there’s a spell I’ve been wanting to try.”  

 

--  

Seamus had returned to the hospital wing later that evening, covered in boils, but grinning as he handed over Neville’s remembrall to a very confused Neville. Despite Madam Pomfrey’s prodding, Seamus insisted he didn’t know how he’d ended up like that. Madam Pomfrey walked away with an exasperated sigh before returning with a potion to cure the boils, and the boys all returned to the great hall for dinner together.  

Harry had been somewhat concerned when he left Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the dungeons. Apparently, as he learned later, they’d been unwilling to admit to Professor Snape how he’d come to find Crabbe leg-locked, Goyle stuck to a wall, and Malfoy with shoes turned to stone and surrounded by the angry pecking chickens that Harry had transfigured the Slytherin’s robes into.  Fred and George had insisted on hearing the tale, of course, and Neville’s avengers gave their subtlest bows in response to the round of quiet applause that the twins led the Gryffindor quidditch team in. Percy Weasley had choked on his juice at one point, but was pointedly not listening to the tale, choosing instead to engage the student next to him in a discussion on their O.W.L. study techniques.  

--  

Harry was sitting in the common room a few nights later writing 14 inches on the phases of the moon for astronomy and once again cursing the tedium of quills, when Penelope approached him. She was holding a few sheets of parchment in her hands, an eager smile on her face.  

“Harry, I have good news!” Harry was thankful for the interruption, setting down the quill with distaste  before turning back to look at Penelope expectantly. He gestured for her to continue.  

“So I’ve worked out my study schedule and spoke with the president of the potions club. I’ll have Wednesday and Sunday evenings available to help you study, except the one Sunday a month when the potions club meets, which we’ll go to together. Of course, if something comes up let me know if you’re not available.”   

She handed him the first sheet of parchment , a list of dates and times written in very tight, seemingly round letters. The second sheet was handed to him a moment later.   

“These are the potions I’ll be helping you practice, and the ingredients you’ll need. Most of these should be in your textbook, but I’ve found a few others in a book in the library that will be good to practice. I’ve also added one or two I remember doing in second year, to help give you a leg up,” she said, finishing with a  conspiratorial whisper.  

“Oh, great, thanks Penelope! I’ll have Hedwig go to Diagon tomorrow to order these.”  

--  

When Harry had dispatched Hedwig for the few supplies on Penelope’s list that he didn’t already have, he crept as inconspicuously as he could down toward the storage rooms he’d seen madam Hooch return the school brooms to after their first flying lesson. His hood raised over his head, Harry pointed his wand at the lock and whispered.  

“Alohomora.” The lock clicked open thunderously loud, and Harry quickly looked around to see if anyone had witnessed his crime. Once he was sure he was alone, he stepped in and took a look around. It was a simple room, mostly clean, with wooden racks upon which the brooms were hung, bristles raised in the air. After carefully looking them over, he selected the one that appeared to be in the best condition. The words Shooting Star were engraved in fading letters at the end of the grip, and only a few of the bristles were bent or snapped. Taking his prize, he quickly stuck his head out of the door, and satisfied that the coast was clear, he quickly stepped out, muttering a quick “Colloportus” to reset the lock.  

Harry stepped onto the grassy training ground, taking one more cautious look around before mounting the broom and kicking off from the ground. He had to suppress a loud whoop as he rose, though he needn’t have bothered. It was still early, the sky still filled with dull pinks and purples, and only the most studious would be awake this early on a Saturday. He practiced what he remembered of the maneuvers that he’d done in class, before his growing confidence led him to rise higher into the air, soaring out of the training grounds.   

The air was crisp and cold this high up, banishing any remaining fatigue Harry had been feeling. Once he’d become more comfortable, he began to push the broom faster, streaking out over the grounds toward Hagrid’s hut. Harry inhaled deeply as he approached, reveling in the smell of the woodsmoke in the autumn air. Turning on a swivel, he panicked a bit as the broom spun out over the trees of the forbidden forest, before righting himself. He practiced speeding quickly and turning for a bit more, zig-zag flying over the edge of the lake lest he lose his balance and fall. The old broom vibrated a bit at high speeds and couldn’t turn on too tight of a curve, but he slowly learned how to work with its quirks. Whooping again as he accelerated, Harry shot off back toward the castle.  

Harry tried to avoid going too close to any large windows as he flew, but couldn’t resist the urge to fly between the towers, pushing himself to maneuver around the spires and performing loops around the viaduct. He had risen next to the astronomy tower and was contemplating how much more interesting the class would be if he could attend it on broomstick when motion attracted his attention out of the corner of his eye. Off in the distance, Harry saw flickers of scarlet and gold. Harry approached through the air, slowing his speed and dropping lower to the ground as he got closer.  

Harry hovered just behind a towering section of the stands, watching what he now recognized as the Gryffindor quidditch team practiced. A few feet before him, he saw Oliver Wood flying back and forth in front of the hoops. The chasers were weaving around one another, making their way toward Wood, quaffle exchanging hands so fast Harry struggled to track it. Fred and George were near the other end of the pitch, batting a bludger back and forth like an airborne game of tennis. Cormac Mclaggen was high above everyone else, periodically diving in pursuit of some tiny glowing balls that did not match the description he’d been given of the snitch.  Harry assumed that seeker practice must use something that didn’t have the ability to elude capture for up to a month.  

Harry almost didn’t notice until it was too late. Mesmerized by the synchronization of the Gryffindor chasers, Harry only saw the runaway bludger sent by the twins as Wood narrowly dodged it, placing the bludger on a collision course with Harry. With all the strength he could muster, Harry pulled the old broom into a barrel roll to the side, narrowly avoiding being brained by the enchanted iron ball. His maneuver and sudden appearance had not gone unnoticed, however.  

“Oi, who’s that then?” Harry heard a female voice call, but he hadn’t seen which of the chasers had spoken. As he looked around, he saw the team’s practice had come to a halt and all eyes were on him, the faces wearing a mixture of confused and suspicious expressions.  

“It’s Potter!” McLaggen called out as he flew closer. “He must be here to spy on our practice for the Ravenclaw team.”  

“What? No, that’s not-” Harry began to deny before being cut off.  

“Don’t lie Potter, what other reason could you have for sneaking around out here at this time of day?”  

“Why don’t we just relax” Wood chimed in holding out his palms in a soothing gesture. “Potter, why were you hiding and watching us?” He asked calmly.  

“It was just a coincidence, really.” He stammered. “I was just out for a flight and I happened to see you lot practicing. I’ve never seen quidditch before, so I just wanted to watch. I didn’t mean to hide, I just didn’t want to disturb your practice.”  

“It’s all right Wood, we know Harry.” Fred, he thought, came to his defence.  

“He doesn’t have a dishonest bone in his body” George continued.  

“Just so long as you don’t steal anything from his friends. Then you’re likely to get your wings clipped.”  

“Aye, then you’re in for a clucking bad time.”  

At this Harry grinned bashfully, seeing smirks on the chasers’ and Wood’s faces before he averted his eyes.  

“Hang on,” Wood responded after a moment, “How did you get a broom here? First years aren’t allowed to bring their brooms.”  

“Oh, I er, borrowed this one from the storage rooms. I couldn’t wait until the next lesson, so I came down really early to get some flying in before everyone was awake.”  

“See Wood, if anyone could appreciate such dedication it’s you,” Fred replied. “So let’s get back to it. Harry, why don’t you come help George and I work on our aim? We don’t have bludgers at home so we’re a bit out of practice.”  

Harry agreed eagerly, recognizing the lifeline he’d been thrown. He followed the twins away from the pitch, where they retrieved a spare beater’s bat, offering it to him. They showed him where to hold the bat, how to swing it for the most impact, and how to absorb a hit with as little pain as possible, before rising back into the air and retrieving the bludger. The three boys hovered like the points of a triangle, gently batting the bludger between them, like an airborne game of tennis. After roughly half an hour of steady improvement, Harry began attempting more complicated shots. He was by no means as skilled as the twins, but as Wood called an end to the practice and the team returned to the castle for breakfast, they assured Harry that he showed promise as a beater. Harry was apprehensive of the thought, but Fred and George reassured him that being a beater wasn’t just about hurting the other team, but protecting your own players, and that a well placed bludger could be a key part of a team’s strategy. 

--  

Penelope led the way down to the dungeons, Harry in tow. Harry was eager to begin brewing potions, out from under the scornful eye of professor Snape. Penelope had informed him earlier that day which ingredients to pack, but the potions being brewed in today’s meeting would be a surprise for a few minutes more. Harry stood dutifully and shyly  next to Penelope as the members of the club entered the classroom. It was a small gathering, only about fifteen students from all seven years, and most of them Slytherins. It seemed that Snape’s class left a bad taste in most students’ mouths, and only the most passionate or those that typically benefitted from his poorly concealed favoritism seemed interested in pursuing the subject beyond the school’s requirements. Harry did note that the only other first year was Greengrass, who offered a nod in response to his wave, her expression blank, as if she were slightly bored. Eventually the club president,  Gemma Farley, a tall Slytherin girl with light brown hair in a tight bun with her wand through it, greeted everyone.  

“Welcome all, to this year’s first potions club meeting.” She began. “Hopefully we’ve all had a productive start of term. Now, as Halloween is this week, I thought we’d all start with something simple that fits the spirit of the holiday. A big part of Halloween of course, is all about scaring others, as well as ourselves. Unfortunately, that also means that this time of year is especially difficult for people prone to nightmares and night terrors. So for our first meeting, we’ll all be brewing potions for dreamless sleep, with the successful batches being donated to Madam Pomfrey to use in the hospital wing.”  

Gemma waved her wand and a recipe began to write itself on the board.  

“Here’s the recipe if you don’t know it already. Just follow it closely and you shouldn’t have too much difficulty. Feel free to ask one of the more experienced students for help if you get lost” she finished, eyeing Harry and Daphne.  

Harry turned to his cauldron and began preparing his workspace. As he cut and ground his ingredients. Penelope would quiz him about the uses and effects of some of this ingredient, or the most efficient way to harvest that herb, or precisely what not to do with that other reagent. One of the first things she’d explained to Harry during their private tutoring sessions had been the importance of preparing for brewing before one actually started. She’d used a french term Harry forgot, but said that it was far easier to succeed with a potion if you read the recipe fully first, prepared all your ingredients, and then started the brewing process.  

“It’s just like with cooking. If you wait until the food is already halfway done before starting to chop up the next ingredient to be added, the food will be burnt by the time you’re ready to put it in.” She’d explained.  

Harry settled into a steady rhythm once all his ingredients were prepared, allowing Penelope to inspect his cuts and periodically check his progress. Without the pressure of Snape breathing down his neck, Harry felt more confident as he brewed, and found himself grinning as he followed along the recipe. When Harry had added the last splash of lethe river water, stirred three times clockwise, four counterclockwise, and once more clockwise before waving his wand and tapping the rim of the cauldron, he was thrilled to see it turn the milky pink he was told to expect from a successful brew. Penelope beamed and gave him two thumbs up as Gemma praised his potion, and even Daphne offered a surprised “Well done” before the club disbanded for the evening. Penelope left Harry to help transport the several trays of bottled potion servings to the Hospital wing with a few of the older members, so Harry exited the dungeon discussing ways he thought he could’ve still done better with Daphne, who quietly listened without actually commenting before bidding him goodnight as she departed for her common room. Harry made his way back up to Ravenclaw tower pondering and reviewing his experience for ways to improve the potion for next time.  

--  

Halloween came with a welcome surprise. Professor Flitwick was finally teaching the first years how to cast the levitation charm. Harry and Hermione had already been successfully casting it for two weeks, and had begun experimenting with it. One afternoon they’d stood beside the black lake levitating stones, and trying to skip the stones with the knockback jinx before their concentration slipped and the stones fell. It was difficult, but Harry seemed to be having an easier time with his other spells the more he practiced combining multiple spells. He imagined it was a bit like stretching before exercise.  

When Harry came down to the feast that evening , he immediately went for the Gryffindor table, frowning when his target was nowhere to be seen.  

“Ron, Neville, have either of you seen Hermione? I’ve finished reading Hogwarts, a History and wanted to return it to her.”  

Neville scowled at Ron for a moment before turning to Harry with a look of concern.  

“Lavender and Parvati said she’s been in the bathroom all afternoon, crying.” Neville responded.  

“What? Is she alright? What happened?” Harry began to worry as well. Neville turned to Ron with an expectant look.  

“Would you like to tell him, or shall I?”  He asked.  

“Erm,” Ron began, “we had charms class today, and I said some harsh things to her during it. But you have to understand, she was being a right pain, constantly telling me I was doing it wrong, trying to correct my pronunciation. She even slapped my wand down once. So I lost it, and told her she was an insufferable know-it-all and it’s no wonder she has no friends.” He finished, looking sheepishly at Harry like he expected reassurance. Harry had none to give, but rather felt a heat in his face. Trying to remain calm, he chastised Ron vigorously nonetheless.  

“Insufferable know-it-all? No friends? She’s surrounded by friends who appreciate her every day after lunch in the library. Neville comes too, and we have a great time, and it helps loads with our classes-”  

“It’s true, I’m actually doing quite well in transfiguration now” Neville chimed in.  

“And how could you try to make her feel bad for knowing how to do the spell correctly? She knows it and you don’t, she was just trying to help. Besides, we’ve both offered to help you learn it for days now.” Harry sighed, releasing most of his frustration. “Alright, come on Ron.”  

“What?”  

“We’re going to go find Hermione so you can apologise.”  

“I’m sure it’s fine, she’ll be back to her old bossy self tomorrow” Ron sputtered.  

“Ronald.” Harry spoke very quietly. “You were very rude to someone who has at every turn offered you help with learning new spells, has looked over your essays, and I know even let you copy hers. So if you do not stand up right now to come help me find her and apologise, so help me, I will cast avifors on every goblet and plate in this hall and let you drown in a sea of every angry bird I can transfigure.” His voice had slowly been building as he spoke, leading Ron to gulp and nod before grabbing his things and standing. Together, Harry and Ron departed the great hall. As they walked the corridors calling out to Hermione in the bathrooms, they saw Professor Quirrell sprinting away past them, evidently late to the feast. Finally, their calls into the door of the lavatories got them a response to Hermione’s name.  

“Hermione, can you come out here for a moment?” Harry said. She stepped out of the bathroom, eyes swollen and red, with a confused look and a scowl at Ron. “Right,” Harry continued, “Ron has something he would like to say.”  

“Sorry. I was a prat to you earlier. You were just trying to help me with the spell, and I shouldn’t have said those rude things to you.”  

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, but then gave a small nod. Her response was cut off by a loud roar from a few feet down the corridor. A troll had somehow ended up roaming the halls, and had just rounded a corner to see the three first years, driving it into a frenzy. It lumbered toward them, dragging an improvised club made from a whole tree trunk  along the ground. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all drew their wands, and began casting red and green sparks down the hall and calling out as they attempted to back away slowly, but the bright, flashing light seemed to anger the troll. They broke into a run, feeling the ground shake from the thundering steps behind them.  

They came upon another turn in the corridor, and Harry and Hermione ducked to the left. Ron however, had turned right, and was facing a dead end marked by a tapestry. He turned around to join Harry and Hermione, but his escape had been cut off as the troll caught up to him. Sensing its quarry was trapped, the troll stalked toward Ron, who was backing away with his wand drawn.  

“Do something!” He yelled.  

Harry turned to Hermione. “Trolls don’t like fire right? Like in all the fantasy stories that’s how you fight trolls.” He drew his wand and took aim. “Incendio!” A small stream of flame shot from his wand, licking the troll’s hide and causing some charring and welts to appear, but this only seemed to enrage the troll further. With a dull roar as it backed Ron all the way to the wall, it raised its club as Harry saw Hermione point her wand.  

“Diffindo!” She cried out.  

There was a sound like thunder that echoed in the corridor as the club split, sending a shower of splintering wood over the troll, before the club fell, severed just above the troll’s hand. The club impacted the troll’s skull with a heavy thud, before the troll collapsed backward, evidently unconscious. Ron breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped around the troll, choking out a brief “thanks” to Hermione, before they were set upon by teachers. Professor McGonagall demanded an explanation, and was horrified when it was explained that Harry and Ron had left the feast early looking for Hermione, missing out on Quirrell’s warning. While they spoke, Harry couldn’t help but notice that Professor Snape was sporting a large gash in his leg, which he quickly hid when he caught Harry looking. Satisfied that they were now safe, Professor McGonagall dismissed them back to their dormitories, awarding them each five points for “quick thinking and excellent spellwork in the face of danger.”  

Harry walked most of the way with Ron and Hermione, and when it was time to split off toward Ravenclaw tower, he was glad to see Hermione and Ron talking and laughing more comfortably. Saving Ron’s life seemed to have earned Hermione his approval. Harry contemplated the mystery of the troll and Snape’s injury all the way up to the common room, sure that there was a connection but unable to identify it. He pondered it as he showered  the sweat, fear, and adrenaline of the evening away, before collapsing into bed, falling asleep in moments.