8

Chapter VIII: The First Day

(Blaise P.O.V)

"That stupid bitch," Malfoy ranted as Blaise pretended to be fast asleep. It was a practice he had put in place years ago, it had actually started the day Tracey had invited at the time a much more timid Blaise into their friend group. It was no surprise to anyone that as Malfoy went, so did all of Slytherin. It was confusing for sure, why exactly seventh years and prefects had bowed to the whims of a third-year, but Lucius Malfoy was a powerful figure in the wizarding world, and if Malfoy Jr. wished it, Malfoy Sr. could ruin their potential careers. It was for that reason that Daphne and Tracey had convinced him that knowing what Malfoy was planning was of the utmost importance, and Blaise was a perfect tap for that information as Malfoy was notoriously bad at keeping his temper in check, "How dare she," Malfoy finished.

"She thinks she can just insult me like that, she thinks that she can turn down me, Draco Malfoy," The blonde git ranted in a whisper-shout to his cronies Crabbe and Goyle, "I'll make her realize her mistake, her and Potter, I'll make them both pay for insulting me."

"Um, Malfoy," Goyle spoke nervously not looking up to face the blonde prince, "I don't think it's a good idea to bother Potter."

"Why?" Draco spat, "Do you think the things that he said about my family don't warrant vengeance?"and

"No," Goyle said timidly, "It's not that, it's just, um, well, Potter he's-"

"Out with it," Draco growled in annoyance.

"He's scary," Crabbe finished, "Come on Malfoy, don't tell me you didn't feel his magic on the train, it was so cold, it felt like death."

"He just caught me off guard was all," Malfoy spat, "I'm a pureblood wizard, descended of two ancient and noble houses, Potter's a half-blood mutt, there's no way he's more powerful than I am. Potter needs to learn that it doesn't matter that he's the Boy-Who-Lived, a half-blood's place is at a Pure-Blood's feet."

Blaise couldn't help but roll his eyes. Draco was not a weak wizard, though his work ethic left much to be desired, however, Blaise felt strongly that even if Draco had trained nonstop, there were plenty of wizards that were stronger than him. Namely, Dumbledore, and for more fair in-year examples, Hermione Granger, a Muggle-born girl was arguably the most talent witch Blaise had ever seen. Blaise himself was a pure-blood, and even he knew that in terms of sheer magical ability, Tracey was far better than him at almost everything besides transfiguration. It wasn't that Blaise himself wasn't raised with all the Pure-Blood superiority propaganda, he had just gotten his ass kicked by enough 'Mudbloods' and 'Half-Breeds' to believe it.

"So what's your plan Malfoy?" Crabbe asked, "How are you going to teach Greengrass and Potter a lesson?"

"Potter's more difficult," Malfoy muttered to himself, "I'll need to plan more for him, but Greengrass is simple. You two saw her face when her sister was placed into Gryffindor, the Ice Queen actually seems to care about her little sister. I'll offer her a deal, she goes out with me and I tell the snakes to lay off her sister, she doesn't, and I'll make sure her sister wants to drop out by next year."

Blaise grit his teeth, he wished he was a stronger wizard, strong enough to take down Malfoy and his two goons for what they were planning. He and Astoria were not exactly close, but Daphne was one of his best friends, and while the relationship between him and the younger Greengrass wasn't very deep, he still liked the girl. The idea that Draco would be willing to torment a completely innocent bystander drove him up the wall. He was proud to be sorted into Slytherin, despite the bad reputation his house stoop for Ambition and Cunning, but while Draco's plan was certainly ambitious, and some may have called it cunning, all Blaise thought was that it was cruel.

"Uh, Malfoy," Goyle started again, "The younger Greengrass seems to be becoming friends with Potter, I mean, you saw him stand and walk with her to the end of the table. I just don't think messing with her is a good id-"

"Are you a snake or not," Malfoy hissed, "Either you do what I say and intimidate the little lion, or I'll cut you from my group and I'll make sure my father hears about your disloyalty."

Quickly Goyle nodded, "Good," Malfoy said, "Now let's get some sleep, we've got a big day tomorrow."

(Harry P.O.V)

Harry awoke to a startled scream that filled the third-year boy dormitory. As a byproduct of his training, Harry quickly grabbed his wand before ducking behind his bed for cover a spell ready on his lips as he looked around rapidly. However, when the source of the noise was located, Harry let out a tired sigh as he saw that it was none other than Ronald Weasley who had been frightened awake by the loud and angry hissing of none other than Loki.

"Loki?" Harry said with a raspy morning voice, "What are you doing boy?"

"What your demon cat was doing," Ron said angrily, "was trying to eat my pet."

"What are you talking about?" Harry whispered, blinking the crust from his eyes.

"Scabbers." Ron said as he lifted a rather fat and rather large rat, "He was trying to make a snack of my family's pet."

"Your family keeps a pet rat?" Harry asked completely lost.

"Not everyone is as rich as the Potters," Ron said indignantly.

"That isn't what I mean-," Harry started feeling bad, clearly the Weasley's did not come from a well to do family based off Ron's reaction.

"It doesn't matter," Ron huffed, "Just keep your monster away from Scabbers."

"Sure thing," Harry said a small semblance of empathy in his voice, "Loki, come here boy."

To Harry's delight, his beautiful Kneazle leapt onto his bed and began to curl up across his chest, demanding that Harry get to work scratching below his chin which he did, causing Loki to purr happily, before Harry whispered, "I know that to you rats are a yummy snack," Harry said playfully to his Kneazle, "But that one belongs to somebody so you can't eat him okay?"

Loki turned back to Ron's bed, a menacing glare in his eyes before Harry regained his Kneazle's focus with a treat he had got in bulk from Figg. "Here boy," Harry said lifting up a fish flavored cracked in the shape of a sardine without any of the smell, "Eat this, I'll see if I can sneak you anything from the kitchen's when I get back from class tonight."

Loki nodded, though his eyes still seemed to be locked on Ron's bed. Yes, having a rat for a pet as a wizard was certainly weird, but still, it wasn't anything that would deem Ron as a suspicious or shady character that Kneazles were bred to detected. However, due to Ron's screech drawing him into attack mode, Harry had waived the notion of going to sleep entirely and decided that it was early enough to begin his conditioning. In minutes, Harry had found himself dressed in long black leggings covered by black shorts and a plain green tee-shirt. He grabbed and dug through his trunk finding his charmed never-empty water bottle, and with one last silent look at Loki telling him to behave, he left Gryffindor tower and headed towards the castle grounds.

The landscape of Hogwarts was beautiful, decked out with gorgeous rolling hills and flushed out fields of greens and browns. Harry allowed the scenery to overtake him as he continued his steady paced jog around the area. He smiled brightly as he passed the quidditch pitch and as he looked up, he imagined how packed the stadium must have been in the days his dad would play. He grinned broadly as he remembered a story Sirius had told him about his parents during their seventh year. Just before the Ravenclaw seeker had caught the snitch, his dad had scored the quaffle and while their catching of the snitch would have tied up the game for Ravenclaw, his dad's last-minute score had won Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup.

Sirius had told him that while his father's team had all flow down to the ground to receive the cup, his father had flown over to his mother, lifting her on to his broom and kissing her in front of the entire school before flying off and shouting back to his team to save some butterbeer for him when he went to their common room. Sirius had then joked that James and Lily hadn't returned down from the Head Boy and Head Girl suite until the next day where he saw that his mother was blushing heavily, and his father couldn't stop smiling.

It was one of the more adult stories that Sirius had told him about his parents, and he remembered how much both Andromeda and Remus had protested he was too young to hear about a story like that. But Harry didn't care, he wanted to hear every story about his parents, he wanted his memory of them to be as strong as possible, and he wanted to know all about how much his parents had loved each other, and about how much they had loved him.

Completing his run around the grounds, Harry had found a quiet place overlooking the Black Lake as he began to start on his push-ups. However, his peace was moderately deterred as he saw another boy walking up and around the grounds before the sun had even risen. Judging by the color of his robes he had discarded by the edge of the lake he was a Hufflepuff, and Harry swore the boy couldn't be much older than he was.

The boy had a round face and was short, maybe a bit shorter than average for a boy his age. He was a bit chubby and his blonde-hair, despite the early morning was parted neatly. As Harry continued his set of push-ups, he looked at the boy in confusion as he saw the boy roll up his sleeves and pant legs, before he kicked off his shoes and walked into what must have been the bitterly cold lake.

His curiosity had been peeked as he watched the boy tread carefully towards the end of the lake's bank, before he crouched down and began to dig. In a bucket he carried beside him, Harry watched as the boy lifted a myriad of odd-looking plants and placed them gently into it. Harry was tempted to go and asked the boy what he was doing, but that plan was quickly diminished as with a yelp, the boy seemingly slipped and tumbled into the Black Lake.

Realizing there was nobody else around, Harry quickly kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks before he bolted in after the boy, the chilling temperatures causing him to curse loudly as he plunged into the water wand in hand. To Harry's great disgust, he saw a horde of small, horned, pale-green water demons with their tentacle-like appendages wrapping around the terrified boy who was trying to reach for his wand against great resistance.

Harry spoke to himself mentally, Sorry dude, before he spoke through the muffled water, "Tenimago!"

Harry watched as a bloom of black flames spurted from his wand encapsulating the water demons. They shrieked as they quickly released the boy trying to pat down the flames, but it was a darker spell Harry had learned from the Black Family Grimoire, a flame that while it doesn't leave the typical burns, creates an agonizing heat on the opponent's skin that despite water, or dirt would never die out until the counter-curse was muttered.

Harry quickly swam for the boy, grabbing the kid who looked up to him in amazement before he pointed his wand down and muttered with the last of his breath, "Aguamenti!" and using the water as a jet-stream, Harry propelled both himself and the Hufflepuff boy out of the water where each gasped for air upon breaking the service. The boy seemingly managed to get himself together and united they quickly kicked themselves to shore.

It wasn't until Harry and the blonde boy had climbed out of the Black Lake did Harry point his wand and mutter the counter curse, "Extinctus." Both he and the Hufflepuff lay on their backs near the Lake panting as Harry watched the boy cough up the rest of the water from his lungs. Finally, with the water cleared from the boy, Harry spoke, "So, what the hell were those things?"

"Grindylows," The boy panted, "nasty little water demons."

"So you knew they were in there," Harry said in disbelief, "And you decided to go for a dip anyway?"

"I didn't mean to go for a dip," the boy said defeatedly looking at the ground, "Gran's always saying I don't use my head."

"I'm inclined to say she was right," Harry said quickly casting a warming charm on both himself and the boy, "What the hell were you even doing in the lake?"

"Research," he said tiredly, sadness still in his voice.

"On how to die?" Harry asked still completely lost.

"On Herbology," The boy said, "I want to document every single species of magical plant in the world. There are no records about the plants in the black lake because nobody can get past the Grindylows and the mer-people, but it's my dream, I don't want to give up." Then a look of sheer depression filled the boy's face, "Although Gran says it's a stupid goal and I should focus more on transfiguration like she did. She's always talking about Professor McGonagall and how she wished I was placed in her house like my mom and dad."

"Hey," Harry said placing his hand on the Hufflepuff's damp shoulder, "For what it's worth, I don't think it's a stupid dream. I mean, I'm god awful at Herbology, I can't really stand it honestly, but if plants make you happy then keep researching… just maybe save the Black Lake until after you've learned enough spells to defend yourself."

"Thanks, Harry," The boy said with a slightly less defeated tone.

"No Proble-," Harry started, "Wait a minute, I didn't tell you my name."

The boy pointed to his forehead and Harry nodded, "Oh yeah, kinda forgot about the whole being famous thing for a minute." A small grin appeared on the boy's face before he spoke again, "Well, how about you tell me your name then, it's only fair."

"Trust me," The boy said glumly, "It doesn't matter if you know my name, nobody in this school even remembers I exist."

"Well, I did just jump into a cold as shit lake for you so I'm pretty sure I'll remember your name," Harry said with a smirk.

"It's Neville," He said still looking out over the Black Lake, "Neville Longbottom."

"I've heard of you," Harry said dumbly before realizing the hole he had just dug himself into.

"You have?" Neville said questioningly.

It took Harry no time however to come up with a cover story. An art that Andromeda had taught him, sometimes, even though honesty is the best policy, sometimes you need to lie. "When I was at Gringotts, I found out that before my mother died, she had made your mom my godmother. In a way, we're kinda like brothers."

However, the notion of his parents only left the expression on the boy's face cold and it looked like lightning had struck him, Harry had remembered what Sirius had told him about the Longbottoms. They had been tortured to insanity by death eaters one of which happened to be Bellatrix LeStrange. The thought the someone from Sirius' bloodline which he had considered his own could have committed such a heinous act had given Harry pause before he spoke sympathetically, "I'm sorry for bringing up your mom. When I was away from the wizarding world, I read all about the war, I know it's not much Neville, but to me, your mom and dad were heroes, they still are."

"Yeah," Neville said disheartened, "And I'm their son who nearly got killed by some fish."

Harry watched as the boy began to stand and started sulking away towards the castle, "Really Harry, thanks for saving me, I won't forget it." He said with a forced smile, "I'll see you around I guess."

"Yeah," Harry said, a sadness filling his heart as he watched a boy who Harry could tell had defeated himself and allowed his confidence to be completely crushed by both internal and external factors glide away, "See yah, Nev."

(Astoria P.O.V)

Astoria was feeling rather uncomfortable as she sat alone at Gryffindor table. Ron had been talking about Harry acting weird and leaving early in the morning, but it was now 7:45 in the morning and Harry was nowhere to be found. Yesterday, Astoria had a problem of nobody wanting to be around her, now she was being flanked by Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and a somewhat pretty girl with long brown hair and blue eyes named Fay Dunbar.

Astoria slightly growled at their fake caring nature, Harry had made it obvious to the common room that she was important to him, and now every girl who had their eyes on Harry seemed to flock to her, forming a protective shield around her as if their new 'caring' nature would win them brownie points with the Boy-Who-Lived.

Honestly, though, Harry being missing was starting to drive her crazy. Yes, Harry had told her not to worry about him and that he could take care of himself, but Sirius Black was still at large, and while Harry for some reason seemed confident Black wasn't something to worry about, Astoria had a very different opinion. Thankfully, however, her silent worry came to a halt as walking alone through the doors of the Great Hall was Harry Potter.

Just like yesterday, Harry was in 'uniform' although he was wearing it in a very sloppy fashion. He kept the standard lazy grin on his face as he walked through the Great Hall, the stares of his many fangirls seemingly going unnoticed by the boy. Astoria couldn't help but chuckle as Harry sent a smile towards her older sister only to receive scowl in return before he took a seat between herself and Parvati.

"Hi Harry," Parvati said, actively putting a soft and melodic tone in her voice.

"Hey," Harry said in a friendly enough tone, though clearly disinterested before Astoria had locked eyes with his emerald pools, "Morning short-stack," Harry said with a grin.

"You're still going with that huh?" Astoria said with a huff.

"Yup," Harry said with a smile as he reached for a piece of toast.

"Where'd you go this morning?" Lavender spoke sweetly, "Ron said you were acting strange and I, for one, was really worried."

Astoria faked a gag causing Harry to snicker before turning to Lavender, "Your concern is appreciated, but unneeded, I couldn't sleep so I went for a morning run is all. When I got back everyone had already left for breakfast."

Astoria was about to make a comment, nagging him about how irresponsible it was for Harry to be walking around all by himself, but before she could, Dumbledore had risen from the High Table and spoke with a booming voice, "I hope everybody has been enjoying their splendid breakfast. Classes will be starting shortly, and as such the Heads of each House shall begin handing out schedules. Please do remember while tardiness for first-years will be accepted today as each student learns their way through the castle, repeated tardiness will lose your house points, and more importantly will lose you valuable learning time. Now then, Professors, if you will."

Astoria sat at attention eagerly as Professor McGonagall began handing out the schedules. It had taken a few minutes before she had finally received hers. She opened the piece of parchment and read of a mixture of double Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms. She had heard from Daphne about how McGonagall was stern but fair, and she secretly hoped that she wouldn't embarrass herself in front of her head of house on the first day of school.

It had taken around fifteen minutes, but eventually, all the schedules were handed out, well almost all of them, Harry's was still missing. Astoria had found this very odd and clearly, Harry did as well before the two of them looked up to see Dumbledore smiling before floating a schedule over to Harry with the wave of his wand. Astoria watched as Harry snatched the paper from the air before he began to read.

For the most part, it looked like a normal schedule, except there was one thing that was strange, on Harry's schedule there was no History of Magic nor Muggle Studies, instead his schedule consisted of: Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Runes, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and oddly an unrecognizable class which read D.O.

However, judging by the look exchanged by Harry and Dumbledore, the two seemingly knew exactly what D.O. had meant and while Astoria had really wanted to ask Harry what exactly the odd-looking initials stood for, Professor McGonagall and the other heads of house had begun ushering the students out to return to their dormitories and receive their supplies to avoid any tardiness if possible, and as the room crowded as people walked towards the door, Astoria had lost Harry in the storm, the question of D.O. still burning in her mind.

(Michael P.O.V)

The dungeons were cold, bitterly so, and as normal Professor Snape had been giving his classic beginning of the year speech about how potions is more of an art than a form of magic and as such it takes more discipline than foolish wand-waving and incantations. He went on to discuss all about how few are truly gifted for the art and that many of us wouldn't be proceeding to the N.E.W.T level and would be weeded out by the O.W.L examinations during fifth year.

Hermione Granger, a girl that Michael had to admit had gotten pretty cute over the summer had been very upset at the notion that she could fail anything which made Michael laugh, to Granger, grades were everything, she had to prove how intelligent she was, as she was constantly fighting to earn her place at the 'wizarding table'. Honestly, while her eagerness did occasionally bring a smile to his face, her desire to constantly make him compete against her did not. Granger and Greengrass had been engaged in a long-standing rivalry since 1st year and truth be told, it was an interesting social experiment, the muggle-born against the pure-blood, but the competition had never mattered to Michael. Unfortunately, he had gotten dragged into this rivalry when he was playing Wizard's Chess with Terry in the Ravenclaw Common Room, and Hermione couldn't believe he had beaten Terry. Hermione had then challenged him, and nothing had made him laugh more than the completely stumped expression on Granger's face when he had beaten her with the Fool's Mate technique ending the game in four turns.

Since then, Granger had been obsessed with his natural intelligence, constantly asking him how he did on his exams and constantly getting furious when he had told her he got an Acceptable. Claiming every time, "You need to try harder because I refuse to believe I lost to an only Acceptable student."

Michael would normally laugh it off and walk away without a word. The school year had just started and Hermione was already glaring at him intently. The Gryffindors were also in the period, and while Seamus being there meant a sure-fire shot at seeing explosions, Michael was more confused as to why Harry wasn't with the class. He had overheard from Ron that Harry had acted weirdly this morning, and he had hoped that Harry hadn't gotten sick his first day at Hogwarts, but just as Snape had waved his wand, Harry had entered the room, panting, "Sorry," Harry spoke aloud, "I had to talk with Dumbledore about something and-"

"You're late Mr. Potter," Snape sneered, "Twenty points from Gryffindor."

"For being late?" Harry asked completely aghast, "It wasn't even my fault."

"Of course, nothing is ever a Potter's fault now is it," Snape said coldly leading to a glare between Harry and the Professor, "Find a seat Potter before I take away another twenty."

Harry just closed his eyes and released a heated breath before walking towards the workbench that Michael was currently occupying. Harry took a seat and Michael turned to him with sympathetic eyes, "That's rough mate."

"Don't worry about it," Harry said still clearly steaming but trying to keep it under control, "Snivillus and my family have a history, I shouldn't have expected anything less," Michael sat there somewhat intrigued in the history Potter seeming shared with Snape, but Harry continued before he could allow his thoughts to wander, "Anyway, what potion are we making, and are you ready to ghost me through it because I'm awful at potions?"

"Sat next to the wrong claw then," Michael said with a laugh, "If you wanted a brainiac you should've sat next to Granger. Though you would have been bored out of your mind, I promise you that."

"I thought you Claws were supposed to be smart," Harry said with a grin.

"Common misconception," Michael said with a devious smile as the two began to work on the Wiggenweld Potion. To say that it was the most fun Michael had during a potions class would have been an understatement as he and Harry had taken turns roasting Snape for the better part of an hour.

"His nose is so big," Harry had whispered to him, "I bet that trees die when he's around."

Michael had to bite his tongue in order not to laugh, "His hair's so greasy, when it's hot out, you could fry bacon on it."

While the two certainly had fun ribbing their least favorite Professor, until inspection time had come around, and Harry and his potion were looking a bit less than acceptable. Mostly because they had said half-way through the class, 'fuck it' and started mixing whatever they wanted. Though Michael had been keeping track of the ingredient, remembering his first year reading about what ingredients not to mix together for danger's sake. Michael was lazy, but he wasn't reckless.

However, seeing the glare Snape had sent Harry, a mischievous lightbulb lit up in his hair as from his trunk of ingredients he pulled out a small vial of Hellebore Syrup, before nudging Harry, "Want to get back at Snape?"

"How is that even a question?" Harry asked in sarcasm, "What's the plan?"

"Syrup of Hellebore," Michael started, "Has a very interesting relationship when it comes in contact with salamander blood, which happens to be the base of our potion right here."

"Interesting how?" Harry asked a grin forming on his face.

"Interesting like boom," Michael whispered.

"How big of a boom?" Harry asked his voice elated with anticipation.

"I suggest getting beneath the desk," Michael said suspiciously, "You in?"

"Absolutely," Harry said beaming with excitement.

"Okay, When Snape comes I need you to distract him, count to thirty and then get down," Michael spoke.

"Got it," Harry said.

Soon, the bat of Slytherin house had approached their workbench, and with his standard sneer he spoke, "Let's see if you're as incompetent as your father when it comes to the art of potion-making."

"Well, I've heard my mother was quite gifted at potions. You know my mother right, Lily Evans Potter," Harry had placed great emphasis on the Potter part and though Michael couldn't understand why, he was amazed at the fact that he saw the stern façade of the potions master break into momentary hurt before turning stern again. However, in that momentary lapse, Michael had managed to pour the Syrup of Hellebore into the potion just as Snape had dipped his ladle into the cauldron. The count had begun in his head, and just before it hit thirty, Michael grabbed Harry's shirt and pulled him below the workbench as a large cauldron full of green gloop exploded with a bang. It may not have spread far onto the other tables, but the less than pleasant Potions-Master was covered head to toe in slime.

As Michael and Harry stood from their seat, Snape bellowed in anger, "Potter!"

But Harry was doing his best to hold back his laughter as the sludge of a potion dripped from Snape's hooked nose. Snape waved his wand and vanished the slime, but some had still remained in his hair and when Michael had pointed it out to Harry, he couldn't hold back his laughter anymore. With a snarl, Snape spoke, "Is something funny, Potter."

"Nope," Harry said trying to contain himself once more, but now Michael was on the verge of tears at seeing his friends practiced restraint falling to pieces.

"No sir," Snape said in an attempt to correct Harry.

But with wit and speed, that Michael had never seen before Harry responded, "You don't have to call me sir, Professor."

"Detention!" Snape growled loudly, "You and Mr. Corner since you find damaging of school property to be so funny. Perhaps you and Mr. Potter will learn some respect for school property after you clean all the trophy's in the gallery by hand."

"Sure thing, boss man," Michael said with a fake salute earning some snickers from Terry and Anthony and a groan of disappointment from Granger before turning back to face a rather livid-looking Snape.

Losing all his patience and most likely not wanting to have to sit through whatever the equivalent of a PTA meeting in the wizarding world would be, Snape hissed, "Dismissed." And with a flurry, the entire class left the class. Some miffed over the fact they hadn't had a chance to be evaluated like Granger, but the majority laughing eagerly running to spread the word that the new dynamic duo of pranking had made their first move.