Hogwarts, Hogwarts
Hogwarts, Harry found, was utterly confusing at times. The castle had a grand total of one hundred and forty-two staircases, of which only a dozen at most did not move around in random patterns - even if Tom claimed that there was a method to the madness. Even worse were the doors; some were just normal doors, but others would only open on very specific cues, while others merely lead to walls - a sick joke, from where Harry stood. He did not mind the moving portraits - even if some of the gossiping was annoying - but he did wish that mayhaps they could give first years a few pointers, please?
Thankfully, there was some support network in place for first years. Percy Weasley, as it turned out, may well come off as snobbish, but he was very diligent in his tasks, which included pointing first years to their classrooms - of course, at times, they had to run across the whole castle to get to their next class on time, but Harry was used to that from primary school, even if the distances now were much larger. Whenever Percy was not around for whatever reason, Harry soon found that some of the ghosts - primarily Sir Nicholas (he refused to call him Nearly Headless Nick out of respect) - were also willing to help out a student, if said student was polite in asking. And if no helpful ghost could be found, Tom was present to guide Harry - surprisingly enough, the classroom locations had barely changed since his day, and the very rare changes that had occured were soon memorized.
Truth be told, if it hadn't been for Tom, Harry may well have fallen through one of those ghost steps to his death. As it turned out, he knew the castle way better than even the grumpy old caretaker, Argus Filch, and was quick to find a closeby passageway which shortened the way to the next classroom, and he was a master at evading said caretaker and his pet cat - a ratty beast called Mrs. Norris - on the way. Naturally, he also had opinions on Filch and the cat ('Why anyone lets that squib work here is beyond me, and if that cat looks at us like that again, I will toss it from the top of the tower'). Harry initially tried extending some curtesy to the caretaker, but soon found that it was misplaced, as the old man was incredibly bitter, sadistic, and quick to anger, and that he absolutely loathed students - as it turned out, the man had been born into a magical family without having magic himself, and had thus never been accepted to Hogwarts (Harry seriously questioned why the man was supposed to clean up behind students who had what he could never have, but oh well).
At least Harry got on well with most other students for the first time in his life. His dormmates were friendly for the most part, if somewhat rowdy at times - probably to be expected. Ron, he soon found, was a bit odd; on the one hand, he seemed incredibly jealous of merely being 'the youngest brother', but on the other hand, he did not seem to have any drive to change that, being fairly content to lax off. Neville was timid, and clearly suffered from confidence issues. Seamus Finnigan - who was very adamant about being irish and not british - was a curious sort, if somewhat clumsy, and he did seem to have a proclivity for explosives ('An irish guy who's good at explosions? Do we need to worry the Troubles will make a return at Hogwarts?' 'Seriously, Tom?'). Dean Thomas was easy-going, but very enthusiastic about sports - something about which Harry did not really care, but he still got on well enough with him.
Still, he spent most of his time with Hermione; either studying with her or talking on potential future fields of study - while this gave them both a bit of a reputation for being bookworms, the two of them found themselves near the top of each of their classes, and soon had other first years asking them for help with their own studies - Neville being one of the first to timidly ask. The boy soon attached himself to the duo, mostly because they seemed to be the only ones who did not mind his company - truth be told, Harrys respect for his classmates somewhat diminished at that, seeing how their dismissal of Neville was stupidly similar to how he had been treated prior to Hogwarts.
As it turned out, Neville was nowhere near as incapable as everyone - first and foremost Neville himself - believed him to be. He merely suffered from some serious self-doubts about his supposedly poor capabilities as a wizard, but on the rare occasions when he managed to move past those, he was actually quite good at grasping the theory. Unfortunately, when it came to the practical sides of magic, he was more miss than hit, which in turn diminished his brief rises of confidence again. None of them - corporeal and incorporeal - seemed to have an idea, but they had relatively little time to try and figure things like that, because who'd have known classwork would be so hard?
Tom had made it very clear he would not help Harry cheat - at most, he'd explain some things which were hard to comprehend, but he would not sneak him any answers. Harry didn't necessarily mind; he'd been looking forward to shine a bit, and he found that he did have some talent in most of the classes. He did alright in Astronomy, even if he seriously questioned the uses of the class ('Supposedly, it can help in Divination - third year, elective, thankfully - but the biggest use I always found it to have was calculating when what ritual ought to be performed'). Herbiology was fun, even if Harry did not have the greenest of thumbs - that honor actually went to Neville, who showed off his talent for the subject very early on.
History of Magic had sounded fun initially, however, the class was so overwhelmingly boring that Tom actually decided to break his earlier statement on not helping Harry cheat in this one - 'I still very much remember this nonsense from my days, and knowing Binns, he still uses the exact same questions. Trust me, the time you spend in here is better spent dealing with more important matters.'
Charms was far more exciting; Professor Flitwick was a very good teacher, Harry found. He was good at explaining the theory, and was quick to aid students when they made some mistake. He was also quite easy going in nature, and always had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 'I wish my old Charms teacher had been like him...', Tom mused on more than one occasion.
Transfiguration was far less fun, but interesting nontheless; the very first lesson, when Harry entered the classroom, he spotted a silver Tabby cat sitting on the professors desk - one he hadn't seen before, which sat unusally still and stiff while seemingly studying the still relatively empty classroom - a gaze annoyingly similar to McGonagalls gaze during her speech before the sorting. Harry was by no means an expert on cats, but he had picked up a thing or two due to his many stays at Mrs. Figgs place, and so, he did notice something was up.
'Tom?', he asked. 'Is it maybe possible for people to transform themselves into animals?'
He could hear Toms grin in the response when it came: 'It is indeed. Now, what led you to believe this kitty there might not be your usual cat?'
Harry then explained his reasoning, adding Toms all too pleased tone as another reason. 'You are very much correct, Minnie is actually an Animagus - she became one in her seventh year. That cat right there, to be exact - though it was less silvery back in the day, I think.'
'I hope she does not plan on teaching in that form', Harry joked as he picked his desk, giving a "Good morning, Professor" to the cat - much to the amusement of the few students already present.
'It would certainly be exciting if she did', Tom said with a laugh.
As the other students trickled in - Ron and Seamus being the last to arrive, due to having gotten lost on the way - the cat finally moved, jumping from the table forward and transforming midair into the ever stern looking Professor McGonagall.
"Five points to Gryffindor for politeness and correctly identifying me", she announced, giving a very rare smile. "Very well done, Mr. Potter. Now, how did you realize I was not, in fact, a normal cat?"
Harry went over his reasoning a second time, adding that he had read about Animagi previously (a minor lie; he had read the term before, but not fully realized what it meant until now - but the professor did not need to know that). She nodded approvingly. "Well thought, Mr. Potter. Take another five points for logical thinking and deduction."
Harry was not ashamed to admit that he was pretty proud of himself for having gained Gryffindor a few points already while Professor McGonagall began explaining Transfiguration, underlining her points by transforming her desk into a pig and back - much to the awe of the students. Eventually, they were given their first assignments - the theory of transfigurating a match into a needle, and towards the end of class, they were supposed to try and do just that. Only Harry and Hermione could mark any sort of progress there - Hermiones match had become more silvery, and Harrys looked more pointy than before. While they did not gain any more points, they did get another smile by the teacher.
'Not bad, Harry', Tom commented. 'Not bad at all.'
Defence against the Dark Arts turned out to be a major joke. While it did seem like Professor Quirell had a decent idea on the subject, his stutter made it almost impossible to follow the class, and the garlic stench was overwhelming. The reason given - the vampire he'd met in Romania - was odd, and the story about the turban was almost certainly utter bogus, not least because Quirell was incredibly evasive whenever asked on it. The stench coming from it was almost worse than the general garlic smell, and even if the Weasley twins claimed it was actually full of garlic, Tom had a different theory. 'I think he's trying to mask another smell with all this garlic', he speculated. 'Can't say I'm surprised that no one's caught it, but it does smell like the back of his head is decomposing when the wind blows just right.'
'So, Professor Quirell is... dying? Is that right?', Harry asked, a bit worried.
'Possibly', Tom answered. 'With how bad he's at teaching, though, I don't really see it as a big loss.'
Needless to say, Harry very much disagreed with that opinion.
Still, the award for the worst class had to go to Potions. Harry had already not been looking forward to it after the teacher had been trying to read his mind, and even less so when he heard that Professor Snape was supposedly biased towards Slytherins. Very little could have actually prepared him for what was coming, however.
For starters, the classroom was located in the Dungeons - already an odd choice, especially as Tom stated that 'it gets so cold down there at times, you can see your own breath in winter'. The room itself reminded Harry of an incredibly antiquated laboratory - the sort you saw in Victorian era exhibits - and the fact that it contained several jars with conserved animals of sorts was even worse.
The worst part, however, was the teacher. Harry had already figured that Professor Snape did not like him, and that he was not a man to concern himself with what he was allowed to do - the fact that he had tried to enter his mind was proof of that - but that lesson made it very clear that the teacher did not merely dislike Harry. No, it seemed as though Professor Snape clearly hated him.
That already became evident when Snape read the attendance list to check who was present and who wasn't, briefly pausing at Harrys name and snidely calling him "our new - celebrity" - much to the amusement of a number of Slytherins, including Draco. Harrys hope to not get on his bad too much had pretty much evaporated by that point; as it turned out, Draco was even more biased, narrow-minded and prejudiced than Dudley, while unfortunately also being of reasonable intelligence, meaning that Harry did not have as easy a time playing tricks on him or evading him. 'A disgrace to his family', Tom had called Draco at one point. 'At least Abraxas knew to not pursue pointless feuds. This... grandson, I'm guessing, ought to spend some more time with him. He'd learn a thing or two.'
Meanwhile, Snape made no attempt to quiet down the Slytherins while he went on his introductory speech on the subject; how Potions was difficult and all about sublety, that there would be no "foolish wand-waving", and what things magical potions could do - provided they were done right. On more than one occasion, Harry felt something brush against his mind, as though a bats wing flew just past it to test the stability of the wall, and he heard Tom growl in angry anticipation - though that may have also been the horribly mutated and deformed version of Ripper he had created as a mental defence and weapon to be used against Snapes mind, should the Potions Master try to enter Harrys again.
"Potter!", Snape suddenly snapped. "What do I get when I mix an infusion of Wormwood with powdered Root of Asphodel?"
Harrys mind raced as he thought. He knew he had read that passage in the textbook, but Snapes question had caught him off guard, and he struggled to remember it.
'There's quite a potions with these two ingredients', Tom thankfully came to his aid, likely not willing to give the greasy man the satisfaction of having outed Harry (and by extension, Tom himself) as a 'dunderhead'. 'Listen closely...'
"Well, Sir, it depends on what other ingredients are included in the mix", Harry answered, following Toms quick rundown. "For example, you could use this combination in the Draught of Living Death or in the Vitamix Potion, depending on the results you desire."
Snape narrowed his eyes as his face contorted, while Tom sighed. 'Now I know why you're in Gryffindor', he muttered. 'Be careful about mouthing off like that.'
"Correct", the teacher allowed. "Tell me, Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Okay, that one was easier, and more expected - Harry had gone over this plant for Herbiology with Neville a day ago. "They're the same plant, also known as Aconite."
Snapes face now looked rather pained as he nodded again. "Impressive, Potter", he drawled. "It appears our grand savior saw fit to actually read his textbook. Now, where would you look, were I to ask you to bring me a bezoar?"
"Well, Sir, after looking through your cabinet, I'd probably look within the stomach of a goat", Harry cheekily answered, causing Seamus to chuckle, while Tom groaned in annoyance.
The professors face was horribly contorted by now, but for the briefest of moments, Harry thought he saw a flash of admiration - and what looked like recognition - pass through the dark eyes. Still, he certainly did not appreciate Harrys little joke. "One point from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter", he sneered. "But... right nontheless. Now, why are none of you writing any of this down?" That last part was directed at the rest of the class, which quickly caused them to pull out their quills and scribble down the information Harry had listed.
"Try not to anger him, Harry", Hermione whispered to him. "I don't think Professor Snape is the sort who understands a joke."
'The girl is smart', Tom agreed. 'You should listen to her.'
The class then moved on to the practical side of things, being paired up (Harry with Hermione), and given minimal instructions on their tasks. Snape had something to criticize at almost every single work station - the only exception being Dracos - be it the way utensiles were held or even if a student wore his tie incorrectly. 'If that man was a Slytherin, he certainly isn't showing much cunning', Tom judged. 'He's seriously showing a dislike for Gryffindors, and he most certainly has it out for you.'
'Yeah, but why?', Harry wondered just as Snape approached his workstation.
"Potter", he began. "Is there a specific reason why you use a brass cauldron instead of a pewter cauldron?"
Harry nodded. "Yessir", he answered. "Pewter has a rather low melting point, which, considering the temperatures required for the proper brewing of the potions, is rather problematic."
Once again, Snapes face contorted in annoyance while once again, that flash of admiration and recognition passed through his eyes. "Do you mean to say that you know better than me what materials I should use in my class, Potter?"
Harry held his eye contact. "No, Sir", he replied, using the same intonation as the professor. "I merely recognized a potential hindrance to my progress in this class, and ensured I could avoid it."
'Oh great', Tom moaned. 'He's gonna love that response.'
Whatever reaction either of the two had expected, it had not been this. Snapes eyes widened suddenly, as though he had seen a ghost. He opened his mouth, and Harry felt the same sharp pain like during the Welcoming Feast, and he heard the Ripper-mutant howl in anticipation...
All of a sudden, a horrible hissing sound could be heard, and the entire class looked at Nevilles and Seamus' workstation, where the cauldron was melting, spilling acidious liquid all over the stone floor, burning holes into the shoes of those unfortunate enough to be too close to the scene of the disaster. Neville, who had likely caused the catastrophe, had gotten the worst of it, with angry red boils developing on his arms.
'Good grief', Tom commented. 'Old Sluggy at least had some protective charms in place for these cases.'
"Idiot boy!", Snape berated Neville, seemingly happy to deal with something other than Harry. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as the boils began to spread on his nose.
"Take him to the hospital wing", he barked at Seamus. "And ten points from Gryffindor for endagering the classroom, Longbottom!"
'I don't like this guy', Harry growled.
'Neither do I', Tom agreed. 'Still, did you notice his reaction when you said your piece in the discussion earlier?'
'Yeah, that was weird. Wonder what that means...', Harry grumbled.
'I think I might have a clue, actually', Tom said with a chuckle. 'I may have taken the liberty of probing his mental defences, to possibly retaliate against another attack. He shields himself through a flowerfield, hilariously enough - a veritable labyrinth, from what I've seen, actually. He's good... Anyways, that field consists entirely of red lily flowers.'
'Red lily flowers... my mothers name was Lily, and she had red hair', Harry stated dumbfounded. 'You mean that Snape may have known her?'
'It's possible, but I won't know for sure unless I look at his mind in detail', Tom stated.
'Yeah, no, if the guy is as good as you say, there's a chance he'll notice you poking around, and you seem pretty against that idea', Harry said annoyedly.
'True, true... ah well, there's other ways to find information... and it'd be one hell of a coincidence if he knew her, anyways.'