Quidditch fanatics and Potion mishaps
When he entered the Great Hall that morning, he was surprised by the wave of guilt and grief, that washed over him.
Death, families torn apart, friends dying, allies wounded, parents dead, death, death, wherever he looked –
He took a deep breath and held his head low, while he walked towards the Slytherin table. It was strange to look at the hall from this perspective, but it gave him an excuse to occupy his mind otherwise.
It was fairly early as well, so there weren’t that many students here yet, but those who were, stared unashamedly at him as if he had spontaneously sprouted a second head. It didn’t help, that Harry kept to himself and didn’t have anyone to talk to, but that changed, when a pair of red heads entered the hall, saw him and strode right towards him.
It seemed like the whole hall was holding their breath, but Harry couldn’t help but beam, as he saw them approaching.
“You see that, Fred? He’s still alive!”, Fred said. Harry frowned. Sure, they weren’t aware, that Harry knew them very well, but he wouldn’t play the naïve kid regarding this. If one had the chance to call out the Weasley Twins on their bullshit, they did so. “Why, George, I expected the snakes to eat him in his sleep.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Do you think I’m stupid? Why did you switch names?”
The twins stared at him. The hall was eerily silent, as everyone was listening intently to their conversation. Then they burst out laughing.
“Brilliant!”, Fred said, a familiar gleam in his eyes. “We’ll make you into a troublemaker all right!” “No one can tell us apart”, George added excitedly. “How did you know?”
Harry shrugged and ate another bit of toast. “I just knew. We spent the entire train ride together, remember?”
“Yeah, but – even our own mother can’t tell us apart!”, Fred argued. “Tell us your secret!”
Harry snorted, a sudden sense of silliness overcoming him. “Not a chance.” The twins shared a glance and then sat down opposite to him, brooding. Harry was shortly taken aback at the sight of Fred and George Weasley sitting at the Slytherin table, but chose not to comment. It wasn’t like it was forbidden and he wouldn’t complain about some company – especially such an entertaining one.
“Is it the hair?”, George pestered. “We always use the same spell, but maybe Fred messed it up –“, Fred gave him a look and Harry chuckled. “It’s not the hair.”
“Merlin help me, there are Weasleys sitting at our table”, said someone - Harry recognized him as the Slytherin seeker this year, Terence Higgs. He was about to defend them, but Fred beat him to it. “And we tend to procreate massively, my friend. Soon you will have a Weasley infestation here, I can tell you.”
Higgs huffed, but couldn’t hide a small grin tugging at his lips. “We’ll wipe the floor with you this season.”
The twins smirked. “Oh, you can try. If you do Oliver will wipe the floor with us, so we have plenty of motivation”, George said and Higgs snorted. “That bad, huh?” Fred and George sighed dramatically, which was apparently answer enough.
Harry could hold his tongue at the last moment, when he remembered he wasn’t supposed to know what Quidditch was at this point. “What are you talking about?”
Fred and George as well as Higgs were looking at him as if he had voiced his desire to marry a flobberworm. “Please tell me you know what Quidditch is”, George said, as if it physically pained him to even ask this. Harry shrugged. “If it’s another magical thing, you already know the answer. I told you I grew up with Muggles.”
They shook their hands. “That’s not a valid excuse to not know Quidditch”, Fred scolded him like a mother would a child and Harry snorted, then looked at Higgs, who looked equally staggered.
“You grew up with Muggles?”
Harry waved impatiently. “Doesn’t matter right now. Tell me, what’s Quidditch?”
««»»
The talked for an entire hour. Harry couldn’t get enough of talking shop with the twins and Terence about the different positions, tactics and professional teams and they were equally as enthusiastic when they noticed, that Harry was picking up on everything exceptionally quick.
It took Oliver Wood dragging the twins away by their ears for ‘sharing sensible information with the enemy’ to make Harry realize, that he had to hurry to make it to his first Transfiguration lesson. And he really didn’t want to antagonize McGonagall of all people.
To his surprise, Terence offered to show him the way and like the unknowing and unsuspecting little first-year Harry was, he took it gratefully and let him lead to the classroom. In hindsight, he was quite baffled how easy it had been to befriend a fellow Slytherin and was now even looking forward to what was to come, strangely enough.
“Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.”
Harry grinned. It was just like he remembered. And he couldn’t help but feel glee when he noticed his obvious advantage: He had been able to transfigure a match into a needle for seven years now. And it wasn’t like he meant to cheat strictly speaking. But could he help it, when he couldn’t hold back anymore after the third try and transfigured his match into a thin, silvery, metallic needle? He was just trying to impress his Head of House teacher after all. And who could blame him for that?
But it was a nice feeling, when McGonagall stopped at his desk, smiled and then showed his needle around for everyone to see.
Harry earned ten points for Slytherin for his ‘incredible precise transformation’ and beamed when he left the classroom. He did feel slightly bad, but decided that cheating was okay as long as he kept studying more advanced spells, that would be challenging for him. His professors couldn’t fault him for cheating with the easy spells when he learned more advanced ones on the side, right?
Harry stopped, an amusing thought popped into his head. Maybe I do fit in Slytherin. And contrary to his second year he didn’t feel the familiar dread, but excitement.
That was only short lived though, as his first potion lesson neared and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that – if Snape would be more civil now, that he was a Slytherin or even more antagonizing.
He got his answer on Thursday morning, when Snape took the roll call and – just like he had done the first time – paused at Harry’s name. To his surprise though, he merely glared at him for a moment and then went back to his list without sparing him another glance throughout the entirety of the lesson. He wasn’t sure if he liked it more than the obvious hatred, but at least he wasn’t taking any points for no reason – it would have been awkward if he did, as Harry was a Slytherin now.
He could barely contain a grin, when he thought about how the Snape he had known would have reacted, had he seen Harry now, as a Slytherin. The image in his mind was glorious.
“I hope for all of our safety, that you intend to add your pickled Shrake spines now, Potter”, Snape snarled behind him and Harry twirled around, his wand at the ready. For a moment no one moved, transfixed, then Snape whisked his wand away and threw three Shrake spines in his cauldron.
“Five points from Slytherin, Potter. I’d think it best to leave the brewing to Miss Greengrass from –“
Harry would never find out, what else he would have said, because in that moment clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville’s and Seamus’ potion had melted the cauldron and was now seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes.
“Idiot boy!”, Snape snarled, while Neville moaned in pain, covered in angry red boils, that were caused by the potion. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?” Neville whimpered again and Snape vanished the spilled potion with a wave of his hand.
Harry was by Neville’s side immediately. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you to the Hospital Wing in no time. Professor, I –“
“You think you can skip on my lesson, Potter?”, Snape snarled with hatred again. “Five points from –“ “I thought you said I should leave the brewing to Daphne”, Harry interrupted him, uncaring. “So I decided to get out of your hair. I’ll get Neville to the Hospital Wing and you can continue with the lesson”, he waited a moment for Snape to retort anything, but when he didn’t, he grabbed Neville by the arm – making sure not to touch any boils and cause him more pain – and manoeuvred him out of the classroom.
“Y-You shouldn’t have talked to him like that”, Neville stuttered. “He’ll give you detention or worse.” Harry shrugged. “Then let him. I think he doesn’t like me anyway. Are you all right though? Looks like the boils stopped to grow at least.”
“Yes, I’m- I’m fine. You don’t have to take me to the Hospital Wing, I’ll find the way myself –“ “Don’t be ridiculous”, Harry said immediately. “I’m glad to get out of there and don’t you dare say you’re fine, you’re clearly not.”
Neville kept quiet after that. It took him until Harry saw the door to the Hospital Wing to ask what was clearly bothering him: “Why are you so nice?”
Harry frowned. “Sorry?” “Why are you so nice to me?”, Neville asked again, quietly. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re clearly in pain and need help. Besides, I like you.”
Neville stumbled and Harry caught him, but touched his boils by accident and Neville cried out in pain. “Sorry!”, Harry said immediately. “Sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine”, Neville assured him quickly. “I’m fine, thank you, I –“, he paused. “Why would you like me?”
Harry frowned again. “Why not? You’re nice and you were great in Herbology. You don’t mind if I ask you for help about plants in the future? ‘Cause you were brilliant, even Professor Sprout was impressed.”
Neville blushed red. “I-I’m not that good, but I like plants. You can always come to me for help, no matter what!” Harry grinned. “Thanks.”
In that moment the door to the Hospital Wing burst open, Madame Pomfrey standing in the doorway, eyeing them critically. “Oh dear, potions mishap, I suppose?” Neville nodded dumbly and she motioned him inside. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you fixed up in no time. Thank you, Mister Potter, for accompanying him.”
Harry smiled and waved both of them goodbye. “Don’t worry, Neville. Next time’ll be better.” Neville returned the smile hesitantly.
««»»
Feeling elated, Harry had returned to the potions classroom, but decided to wait outside until Snape dismissed everyone. It was interesting, how much more chirpy everyone was after any other lesson, but after potions most of the students left the classroom with their heads bowed and none of the Gryffindors talked at all, except for complaining about Snape.
He sighed. He hadn’t planned on it at first, but could he think himself capable on reasoning with Snape? There was a time when he would have straight out laughed at anyone even considering this, but now… Snape hadn’t belittled or embarrassed him, hadn’t asked him impossible questions… he had become angry at him, but even that had been kind of justified, because Harry hadn’t focused and had almost made their potion explode.
Maybe it was worth a shot…
Determined, he walked back into the classroom. Multiple foul smells met him as soon as he entered, but many years of studying potions let him ignore it on instinct.
“Mister Potter”, Snape drawled. “You’ve decided to show yourself again then.”
“I came to apologize, Professor.”
Snape almost recoiled from the look of it, as if he had never heard such a word before.
“It was wrong to just leave your class, no matter what you’ve said before. I was only thinking about Neville’s wellbeing. And I’m sorry for almost making our potion explode, I got lost in thoughts”, he admitted. “Daphne had nothing to do with it, obviously. But you already knew that.”
Snape didn’t say anything, merely scrutinized him with his piercing black eyes. For a moment, there was nothing but overwhelming silence.
“Out, Potter. I hope you’ll put more effort into your essay than your potion today.”
“Of course, Professor. Good day.”
Harry felt Snape’s gaze following him out of the room, but ignored it as best as he could. He knew he shouldn’t be happy about a teacher of his not insulting him for once and the standard was very low here, but it was kind of nice, to have Snape acting… not nice, definitely not nice, but kind of civil towards him.
The icing on this day’s cake was Daphne’s curt nod, when Harry apologized to her as well for almost ruining their potion and then promptly was invited to study in the library with her, Nott and Bulstrode.
Maybe he just hadn’t given them a reason yet, but so far neither of them had said anything offensive to either Harry or any other of the students and he planned to keep it that way. In addition, he was on better terms with Fred and George than he had ever been and when Neville had left Madame Pomfrey’s care, he had come to Harry again, to thank him profusely.
To shorten this, Harry’s first week was great, much to his own surprise. And then it only got better, when there was a notice on the board in the Slytherin Common Room, that flying lessons would start soon…
««»»
Neville was as nervous as Harry remembered him being the first time around and he couldn’t fault him for it. Due to his nervousness he managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground and from what he remembered, Neville had never grown fond of brooms the first time around.
But when Neville got a package at breakfast, Harry found himself with a decision to make: challenge Draco Malfoy or watch him bully Neville. To be honest, it was a very easy one.
Malfoys interest was immediately sparked and he walked towards the group of Gryffindors. Harry, who had followed him from the common room, was quick on his heel. Just when Malfoy was near enough and went to grab the Remembrall, Harry pushed through, grinning.
“Hey, Neville. I haven’t seen you in a while.” In the corner of his eyes, he saw McGonagall sitting down again, eyeing them with interest.
“Oh, h-hey, Harry.”
And Harry, ever the sly Slytherin he was now, saw the opportunity to introduce himself to his old friends when he saw them there.
“Hey, I think we’ve met at the train station. Ron, right?” Ron nodded dumbly, his eyes somewhat wide. Harry heard Malfoy huff and then watched him escaping to the Slytherin table. He grinned for himself. At least his plan had succeeded.
“Did you do that on purpose?”, Hermione asked and Harry turned, smiling at her. “Did what on purpose?” “Talk to us”, Hermione said suspicious. “You pushed right past him, just when he walked by.”
Harry chuckled. There was no getting past Hermione’s intellect at any point in time. “Caught me”, he said, holding his hands up. “Sorry, Neville. I would have talked to you either way, but Malfoy was making eyes at your Remembrall and I didn’t want him to make a scene. He’s a git, but he’s somewhat manageable if you know how to do it.”
“Oh, thank you”, Neville said, blushing. Harry grinned again. He was adorable, young and innocent like this.
“So, who are you? I don’t think we’ve met yet”, Harry said and Hermione sat up straighter immediately. “I’m Hermione Granger.” Harry nodded and couldn’t help himself a little jab. “Oh, right. You’re the genius witch everyone is talking about.”
Hermione blushed furiously and stuttered a thank you. “I’m Harry”, he said casually. “But I guess you already knew that. Everyone kind of does, I think.”
At that, Hermione lit up. “Yes, of course! I read about you before school, you are fascinating! You’re in Modern Magical Hisory, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and –“ “Great wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century”, Harry interrupted her and she blinked at him, surprised. “I know. I hope you didn’t believe anything they say there about me, ‘cause it’s a bunch of rubbish.”
Ron snorted, while Hermione looked like she wanted to cry in defence of her holy books. “So, you didn’t defeat You-Know-Who as a baby?”
This time, Harry snorted. “’Cause not. Like you said, I was a baby. I probably couldn’t even poop properly, how would I have defeated a dark wizard? The most powerful one since Grindelwald, at that?”
Hermione had blushed crimson and Ron tried not to spit out his toast while laughing. Neville was looking between the three of them, kind of lost, but also amused. At some point, Harry had sat down and was now sitting at the Gryffindor table, no questions asked.
It was great, to have this tiny bit of normalcy. Even if this Ron, Hermione and Neville would never become the persons he had known before.
But with his ‘newly acclaimed’ knowledge about Quidditch and flying, courtesy of Fred, George and Terence, he managed to at least somewhat calm Hermione and Neville, even if the poor boy still looked exceptionally pale.
He noticed a few of the teachers eyeing him curiously, but it was not like he wasn’t used to that at this point and so he ignored it.
When breakfast was over though, Harry jumped up and quickly said goodbye to everyone, gathering his stuff and leaping over the bench to not be too late for Defence Against the Dark Arts, as he had to run through the entire castle, contrary to the Gryffindors, who would be having Charms now. Fred and George laughed at him and he flicked them off, which only made them laugh harder.
««»»
When he burst through the door at the last second, everyone turned to look at him and Harry grinned sheepish. “Sorry, I lost track of time.”
A few Slytherins sneered and Malfoy snorted. “Yes, everyone’s seen you. Bad enough that you associate yourself with these twins, but now with Longbottom and that Mudblood as well?”
Harry resisted the reflex to ready his wand and hex Malfoy into oblivion. But he was aware of all the sharp gazes directed at him and instead put on his best oblivious expression. “What does ‘Mudblood’ mean?”, he asked innocently.
Malfoy blushed a deep red and Parkinson and Nott snorted. “Yes Draco”, she said mockingly. “Tell us what that means.”
Luckily for Malfoy, Quirrell chose that moment to enter the classroom and gave him a valid reason not to answer. Harry sat down next to the Ravenclaw Christopher Hemsley and was once again reminded, that he would never have a peaceful year in Hogwarts, no matter if it was in the past, present or future.
Luckily his scar didn’t hurt anymore when Quirrell turned him his back, but it didn’t exactly made him feel any better, considering there was Voldemort lurking from the back of his head. But he wasn’t sure yet, what to do about that.
««»»
“Stick out your right hand over your broom”, called Madam Hooch at the front, “and say ’Up!’”
“UP!”, everyone shouted. Harry’s broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione’s and Neville’s twitched meekly on the ground and even Ron needed a few tries.
He decided to help Neville and Hermione and murmured to them to try to relax, as the brooms could feel their fear. He also helped Neville with his posture; made him straighten up and told him to let his hand hover over the broom confidently, no matter if he felt like it or not.
“Mister Potter”, Madam Hooch called him. Apparently his efforts had taken longer than he thought. But to his surprise she added: “Five points to Slytherin for helping out a classmate.” She smiled slightly and he returned it, somewhat surprised. It’s not like he hadn’t helped anyone before when they had needed help, but he hadn’t been awarded points, as far as he could remember.
Maybe spurred on by that, Harry suddenly had an idea: “Uh, Madam Hooch, could you have a look at Neville`s broom? I think it’s more sensible than some of the others and as Neville isn’t that confident in the air, I thought maybe he ought to switch with someone – he can have mine, in fact. I think mine would suit him better.”
Madam Hooch raised her eyebrows and Harry pleaded internally, that history wouldn’t repeat itself. It’s not like he imagined Neville to ever be fully comfortable on a broom, but maybe he would benefit from an accident-free first lesson.
Silently Madam Hooch walked over to them and inspected first Neville’s and then Harry’s broom. “Another ten points to Slytherin, Mister Potter. You have a keen eye and a good sense for brooms. How did you know brooms had different temperaments?”
“Terence Higgs and Fred and George Weasley explained Quidditch to me a week or so ago and then we drifted off to more theoretical and off-pitch topics.”
Madam Hooch nodded, satisfied. “You will make a fine Quidditch player one day, Mister Potter. Now, everyone has two minutes left to adjust to their broom and then you will hover for the first time”, she motioned everyone to get back to their task and especially Neville did so with new ferocity.
To Harry’s utmost surprise and triumph, his plan worked and Neville hovered in the air without falling or hitting anything. He was reluctant to call it a full success though, as he had forgotten that without the incident, he wouldn’t be picked for the Quidditch team this year. Madam Hooch may had acknowledged his talent, but it wasn’t nearly enough to stick out from the crowd this time – especially because he had mostly kept close to the ground to help Neville and Hermione out as best he could.
But he wasn’t dissatisfied with his first flying lesson at all. No one had gotten into a fight, no one had stolen from a classmate, no one had been hurt and no one had died. It seemed pretty solid to Harry.