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Chapter Text

Destiny simply sits in her seat (which looked more like a throne) and stares on impassively as she watches Fate exit.

Once again, her sister was meddling outside her boundaries.

Not that it was surprising, Time had given Fate quite the verbal lashing last week when one thing she meddled in involved time travel.

And Death hadn't spoken to Fate in about two years time, or what seemed to feel like two years time, because Fate was either raising the dead in multiple ways without any true reasoning or interfering whenever Death went to take those whose time had come to an end.

Fate had that habit.

Destiny felt pity for her sister for this.

Once, Fate had been fair, unbiased, just.

...

How had she fallen so far? 

Time theorized that Fate had gotten too high on a power trip that her powers as an entity give her.

Destiny supposed she could see it.

Though Destiny did not envy Fate.

It was only a matter of time before their creator stepped in, and when he did, may he have mercy upon her sister.

Destiny stared across the dimension, which was everywhere and yet nowhere, and white all around, but as they were entities they could summon objects (summoning people became forbidden long ago, as a result of other meddling done by Fate).

And frowned as she saw a checkerboard, only one where each piece represented real life people, beings, structures, places...

Hmm...what was she meddling in now?

Destiny felt across every dimension and universe, getting a feeling of...

...rd Harry.

The-boy-who-lived.

...ter...

Harry Potter! 

Ah yes, Harry Potter, the one Destiny herself had.

...

Wait...

Destiny quickly floated to her feet, quickly moving across the dimension to the board.

And she sees it.

A piece with a symbol of a boy with glasses and a lightning scar.

...

Fate...

Was meddling...

With her favored??

No...

Not young Harry...

Now it was horrible enough before, but, Fate has truly gone too far this time. One doesn't mess with any entity's favored child, the consequences were very severe and threw off the balance of everything. 

Her sister's meddling with a favored child would unbalance everything, including their dimension, and if that happened, then they themselves may be no more, in which case every galaxy, universe, and dimension would cease to exist.

Nothing would exist.

Even existence would cease to exist.

Destiny hadn't said anything before because Fate had the tendency to make everything dramatic and all about her.

But no.

She wasn't going to say anything.

She was going to do something about this herself.

Fate wants to try to meddle with her favored? To use him as some weapon to further satisfy her own tragically sizeable ego?

So be it.

Destiny would show her why she should never meddle beyond her own boundaries.

So as she looked over the entire board, she smiled coldly as she found what she was looking for.

One that would undo much of her sister's machinations.

The rest would be up to those who defend her favored.

It was time for Fate to be forced back into her own boundaries.

By making her see the consequences of her actions.

Harry stood near the top of the staircase, watching an exchange.

"Think my name's funny, do you? I have no need to ask you yours. Red hair, and a hand me down robe? You must be a Weasley."

Ron scowled at Draco Malfoy, who moved closer to stand in front of Harry.

"You'll soon learn that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." Malfoy looked pointedly at Ron when he said this before looking back to Harry with an outstretched hand. "I can help you there."

Harry stared at the hand.

Should he shake it??

He feels like he shouldn't...

...

But...something tells him that would be rude.

Sure, maybe Malfoy was a brat, but he was a child, like Harry himself.

Maybe it was just him overthinking.

Harry mentally relents, reaching out.

And shakes Malfoy's hand.

Much to the shock of everyone, and the smugness of Malfoy.

The blonde silently nods before heading back to his place between Crabbe and Goyle, and McGonagall returns.

"We're ready for you now, follow me." 

The sorting ceremony was interesting.

The hat could probably use a couple singing lessons, but the tune was...catchy he guessed.

Weird that a hat could sing or speak, but then again magic exists.

McGonagall then started sorting everyone.

Hermione, the girl Harry and Ron met on the train her, remained on the seat for several moments before the hat finally called out her house.

"RAVENCLAW!" 

Hermione seemed surprised by this, but seemed to smile happily.

McGonagall removed the sorting hat, and Hermione headed over to the table holding Ravenclaw house.

This process proceeded for a few minutes.

Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot went to Hufflepuff, along with Neville Longbottom.

And Draco went to Slytherin.

Ron commented that every witch or wizard who went bad was in Slytherin. Which Harry couldn't help but frown at.

He didn't get why many seemed so against Slytherin, all because what? A deranged dark lord came from there, therefore everyone in that house was bad?

Pretty ridiculous truthfully, plus Harry didn't like the apparent rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, it was stupid.

Ron then got sorted into Gryffindor.

And then Harry was called up to be sorted.

Here goes nothing.

The sorting hat did surprise him a bit.

'Ah, Harry Potter, Destiny's favored.' 

Huh? What?

Destiny's favored?

'Highly favored, by the entity know as Destiny herself, yes. Fate appears to have made a very fatal error, but it's nothing for you to be concerned about.' 

...

'And you may call me Alistair, mister Potter.' 

'Oh, okay. Then just call me Harry.'

'... you're an interesting child, Harry.' 

Alistair then hums aloud.

"Indeed an interesting child. Plenty of courage, a very fair mind that could become great, there's talent, oh yes, and a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you?"

'You read minds right?'

'I see only what I need to see, Harry. Nothing more, nothing less.'

'...maybe somewhere that isn't chaotic or where people look at me like they currently are.'

'Ah, you wish to simply be known as the individual that you are, and not as a child of a rather questionable prophecy. Quite the mind you have, much like Lily Evans before you.' 

'You...were around to sort my parents?'

'Of course. How old do you believe I am?'

'...is that rhetorical?'

'...and there's the sass, though not as prominent.' 

meanehile he's been sitting here for...maybe about four minutes? Little less?

"But...the trait that I'm seeing the most prominently above all others is compassion, and your deep and genuine care for those around you, along with indefinite trust and loyalty to those who earn it. And only one house prominently fits that criteria."

...

"I will say that though you would have done fairly well in Ravenclaw you lack thirst for such great amounts of knowledge, and Gryffindor isn't very fitting as you lack the sense of fearlessness. I do however say you would've done very well in Slytherin, though frankly I'd rather not place an innocent child in the crosshairs of petty rivalries and resentment." Alistair stated the last part as if he were innocently oblivious.

Both Gryffindor and Slytherin alike looked surprised and offended by that, though a few looked guilty, which implies that Alistair hadn't said anything like this out loud until now.

"But ultimately I'd rather place you in the house where you will not be judged by blood status or prophecy. Therefore it shall be..."

Harry held his breathe, but he knew what was coming.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

And suddenly someone dropped a teacup somewhere up at the teacher's table.

McGonagall's expression remained undecipherable.

And everyone else was silent.

As Harry Potter, the boy prophesized to destroy the dark lord once and for all.

Didn't get sorted into the house of Lions.

But rather the house of Badgers.

For the first time in centuries...

A Potter was sorted into Hufflepuff.

And suddenly the silence broke as Hufflepuff house exploded with applause.

Meanwhile a certain couple of red headed twins at Slytherin table exchanged glances as they spoke in unison.

"We didn't get Potter?" 

And no one was yet aware of the massive wave of seemingly invisible magic that spread across all of wizarding Britain in the span of seconds.

Sped up only a bit by the will of Destiny herself.

But soon it would come to light.

Soon everyone would see.

Fate had already destroyed too many.

But Destiny no longer had patience for her sister.

It was time to redirect the course of all things.

It was long overdue.

Chapter Text

Harry rose from the seat as McGonagall removed the sorting hat. He looked up to her in some confusion, and she offered a very small but warm smile.

"Go join your fellow Hufflepuffs, mister Potter." 

So he walked down to Hufflepuff's table and took a seat in between Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones.

The rest of the sorting was fast as only a few were left, with Anthony Goldstein going to Ravenclaw, Dean Thomas to Gryffindor, Seamus Finnigan followed after, and Millicent Bulstrode and Blaise Zabini both to Slytherin.

Then afterwards the headmaster gave a speech, some warnings that were honestly very strange, and with one gesture summoned a feast.

Severus isn't sure what he thinks right now.

But he briefly stares at Potter as he starts eating with the other Hufflepuffs.

The boy looked like James.

Yet, something about the boy's behavior didn't fit.

The boy didn't seem to portray James Potter's mannerisms. He'd been quite nervous when all eyes were on him, and shrank away from the attention.

Whereas his father would've bathed in that attention.

If anything the boy was acting very similar to how Lily did when she had been sorted.

And his eyes, they too were different.

Nearly a perfect match to Lily's own.

And yet, he'd previously assumed the boy would be just like his father.

How he suspected he'd pay dearly for being wrong.

But there was something else.

The boy didn't really look all well.

Which was strange, but Severus would notice such a detail.

He was pulled out of thought by Quirrell, who quietly groaned and massaged his forehead.

Though the man still managed a conversation.

"This should be an interesting year, wouldn't you agree, professor Snape?"

...

...

What happened to the bumbling fool's stutter? 

Severus didn't react on the outside though.

"To put it mildly."

...

"Your voice appears to have recovered quite well in a...short timespan." 

Quirrell looked up and over to him, a confused expression on his face.

"I don't have-" though he seemed to recall something, seeing as he then frowned. "Oh. Odd. I...do vaguely recall having a stutter, but I do not know why." He replied.

"Do tell me your mind has not turned to mush." Severus said dryly.

Quirrell to his credit seemed to Ignore that comment.

"I recall taking a sabbatical for a year, but I do not remember the reasons of why. There's a vague memory of myself mentioning getting first hand experience in something or other, but I don't recall anything after that." 

...

Curious.

And suspicious.

Severus could look at Quirrell and tell he wasn't lying and was greatly confused, but that doesn't mean he's buying this yet.

He'd always thought there was something off about the man, but it seemed not even Quirrell knew what it was.

Which didn't really bode well.

Severus would keep an eye on Quirrell just in case though.

Admittedly he hoped it was nothing.

Albus was...mainly confused.

At first.

But he quickly stopped himself and realized he was making that fatal error again.

The error where he drew up assumptions of individuals whom he didn't really know.

Contrary to popular belief, Albus Dumbledore wasn't a flawless man, he had quite a few faults, and made mistakes himself.

He's starting to think that placing Young Harry with his aunt hadn't been a good idea.

He may be old, but he is never blind.

The boy was shy yes, but also tense, and highly guarded and on edge. Not to mention from how he reacted (silently so) to all eyes being on him, there was definitely fear present there.

And already, Albus was coming to the conclusion he'd made a terrible mistake.

Granted he'd known Petunia Evans hated both her sister and magic, but he had thought that the woman would disregard such views in favor of caring for and raising her nephew. He'd thought Petunia would love him as if he were her own.

But he could tell that that wasn't the case.

He should have listened to Minerva all those years ago.

Minerva sighed silently as she took her seat at the staff table.

She would shamelessly admit that she was somewhat disappointed that Harry wasn't sorted into her house, but that was a childish thought, so she shoved that thought away.

At the very least, he didn't go to Slytherin.

Now Minerva had nothing against Slytherin (despite some of their more subtle idiotic antics), rather she didn't want Harry caught up in the whole "Gryffindor vs Slytherin" feud. And while Albus never encouraged it, he didn't do anything to discourage it either.

And also because she's not sure how Severus would treat the boy, mainly given he looks like his father even though he didn't act like James.

Not that it would've mattered if Harry had gone to Slytherin. If Severus would have gone that route, Minerva would've called him out on holding onto a petty old rivalry between himself and a dead man, before hexing him to near oblivion.

...

Of course if Severus still does it now, then she'll do that anyway.

But there was another thing.

"Pomona?" She spoke, getting the attention of the Herbology professor and Hufflepuff head of house.

"Yes Minerva?"

"Would you mind keeping a closer eye on mister Potter? Not out of any favoritism..." She added before Pomona started thinking it. "rather I am concerned about his health and well being." 

Pomona frowned slightly.

"What do you mean?" 

She's somehow not surprised when Albus joins in and answers for her.

"I believe that Minerva, Severus..." He glances at the potions master and Slytherin head of house down the table briefly. "and myself, have noticed how un-healthily thin young Harry is, and I fear he should not look that pale." 

Pomona blinked, looking towards the table housing all of Hufflepuff and looking at Potter in particular. She seems to be able to see it from up here, as she nods slowly.

"...I can understand your cause for concern. I will keep an eye on him, and hope there's a good, healthy change."

"That is the best we can do, unless he comes to you with his troubles." Albus said, with a twinkle in his eyes, though not a happy twinkle like usual.

Pomona almost gaped at him.

"Are you suggesting what I suspect you are, headmaster?"

Albus did not confirm or deny.

Minerva looked to him, lips thinning in a way that showed her aggravation.

"If so, I believe I recall telling you multiple times not to place him there."

"I know Minerva, and for that I am sorry. But this can be discussed at a more appropriate time. For now we simply wait." He replied with some regret showing in his tone of voice.

Minerva nodded reluctantly.

If their suspicions were proven true, then trying to talk to the boy about it would simply make him fearful and then he'd no doubt run away.

They would have to wait unless Harry said something.

It was all they could do.

At the Slytherin table, Marcus Flint was mostly trying not to scowl at the thought of Gryffindor house's reactions when Potter was sorted into the house of Badgers.

That they believed Potter should be in their house was beyond him. He'd only just seen Potter and could easily say he was far from a Gryffindor.

He'd barely picked up on the sorting hat mentioning that it had wanted to sort Potter into Slytherin, but that it didn't want Potter caught up in the house rivalries.

Which Marcus understood.

He'd never understood the whole "Gryffindor vs Slytherin" thing, which unsurprisingly was started by Gryffindors right after Voldemort actually officially became a dark lord after he left Hogwarts.

The whole thing went on from there until, somehow, the entirety of Slytherin was labelled as evil, and a brewing ground for death eaters and followers of the dark lord.

How they thought eleven year old children could be evil was so absurd it was almost funny.

Dumbledore had never said or done anything about it, he did show favoritism towards Gryffindor, but he didn't treat Slytherin badly like some believed. The problem was his inaction in that he'd done nothing to bring an end to a petty and outright stupid rivalry which was caused by Gryffindors and their outlandish claims and assumptions all based on one individual.

Marcus didn't dislike Dumbledore, but he didn't really like him either. He remained neutral for now.

Does he think Dumbledore is good? Yes.

Does he think Dumbledore always does the right thing? No.

For a while he's fairly sure the headmaster has been blinded by his whole "greater good" mindset, though it was the lack of any outward reaction to Potter's sorting that was strange.

Then Potter himself...

Marcus wasn't sure.

But Potter looked rather thin, thinner than a child his age should be. And more so unhealthily pale.

And the amount of wariness he showed of his surroundings would've seemed normal, if it weren't for the fact that he had looked like he was discreetly looking for exit routes in case he needed to bolt.

And that was more telling than anything.

"Have I lost you in the land of pondertown?" A hand waved in front of his face, which broke him from thought. 

He looked up to see Lee sitting in front of him. 

None of the other Slytherins said anything, mostly because they were used to it by now, and partly because those who did want to say anything were too afraid of Marcus to do so.

And Lee always came over to sit at Slytherin's table, being Marcus' boyfriend for one, and secondly no rule said one was required to sit with their own house. Well you couldn't do that until after the headmaster gave his usual opening speech, but even so.

Currently Lee was in his fourth year, and Marcus in his fifth, only a year apart at 14 and 15 respectively.

Not to mention Lee was the announcer at the Quidditch games.

Lee did have a tendency to say things he should be keeping to himself during that time, though it was always admittedly funny anytime professor McGonagall called him out on it.

Marcus rolled his eyes at the typical type of greeting from him.

"Yes, pondering, something you could benefit doing a lot of." 

To which Adrian promptly gaped and Graham's eye twitched, because they were well aware of how such responses were received by the Gryffindor.

Really none of them understood why Lee wasn't sorted into Slytherin.

Or maybe it was part of some scheme of his, Lee was always up to something (usually, and especially with the twins), and he also has a tendency to always get back at people who responded to him in such ways.

Then again Adrian and Graham would know, seeing as Adrian was stuck smelling like literal shit for a whole month, and Graham received a thinly veiled warning from Lee in a highly passive aggressive letter, and both promptly vowed never to get on Lee's bad side again because they were afraid of how far the retribution may go otherwise, especially since Lee threatened to get the twins involved.

Which probably would've resulted in...something reminiscent of a warzone.

Lee simply stared at him momentarily before smiling sweetly.

"Coming from the one with an "A" in several different classes, along with a "T"."

"You're failing a class?" Adrian stared at him gobsmacked. "Merlin's wrinkled old..."

"Don't bring poor Merlin into this." Graham drawled, though was ignored.

"Marcus, you're the smartest of the three of us, you have to have at least all "A"s."

"My Troll grade is in History of Magic, not like anyone ever learns anything from Binns anyway. Hell, Gemma has an Acceptable in that class, but even she couldn't be bothered to listen to Binn's rambling."

To which Adrian seems to reluctantly concede.

"I mean he does only ever talk about the Goblin wars, so I guess that's fair."

"And must you tell the entire wizarding world my grades?" Marcus looks at his boyfriend in fond agitation.

"When you insult my intellect, yes." 

...

Marcus really wanted to quip at that, but he knew better, so simply grunted and kept his mouth shut.

"I noticed your interest in one of the new badgers." Lee commented.

Briefly he questions how Lee knew, but stopped because of course he did.

Mainly because Lee was far more observant than many gave him credit for.

"I was intrigued by this year's sorting." He answered carefully.

Not that this fooled the other.

"Could it be that you've already adopted another badger into the family at first sight?" Lee asked, not hiding a smug and knowing expression.

Marcus shook his head.

Even if weirdly he wasn't against the idea.

"I do not adopt badgers." 

"Yet there is Cedric." Lee responded just as quickly, with his tone turning sweet.

"I did not adopt Diggory."

"Please, he became your other half within mere minutes after you officially met him, if he wasn't my non-biologically adopted older unofficial brother-in-law, I would've suggested a ménage à trois." His boyfriend admittedly both nonchalantly and shamelessly.

Adrian sputtered at the declaration, and Lee just sighed overdramatically.

"Joking Pucey, I'd never take your boyfriend from you, I'm a one man kind of man." 

Graham snorted, while Adrian scoffed.

"Quite fine with who I already have, thank you."

"Yes, Farley, everyone is well aware. Anyway..." Lee said dryly before his attention went back to topic.

"I take it you've noticed something odd." Not a question.

Marcus nodded slowly.

"I have the feeling that whatever is going on with Potter is something we need to be aware of. Because it's been said that's he's being 'taken care of', but you can tell that that's not true by taking one glance at him."

In fact he could see Diggory at the Hufflepuff table talking to Potter and it looked like he was trying to talk him into eating, something that was a big red flag itself because Potter shouldn't require permission for that.

Lee's expression doesn't turn serious but it's something close.

"And that he was being tutored, and well versed in knowledge of the wizarding world."

"His reaction to everything here says otherwise." Graham points out.

"That's our point. Either someone has been twisting everything into a lie, have been blatantly lying, or are saying what they believe is the truth, and I'm not sure which of those three is worse."

His boyfriend sighs uncharacteristically.

"In any case, I have the feeling that it will conveniently be an eventful term." 

"Yeah well..." Adrian started. "Hopefully the old goat won't try to mold him into some weapon or symbol for the 'light'." He finished with a grumble, never having liked the headmaster.

"He can try." Lee's voice was deceptively like it normally was, but there was a hint of promised suffering for the headmaster if things went that way.

...

"Though as long as Marcus is here, I doubt he'll ever get physically close."

...

Not this again.

"Lee, I have not adopted any badgers." 

"Hm, methinks there's an imposter among our ranks. What say you, Gred?"

"Yes, I find your assessment quite accurate, Forge."

"And it's not just Diggory..."

"There were about twenty last term..."

"And now he's gone even further..."

"Plus one..."

"Wonder if cuddle and sleep piles are on the resume..."

"Who could resist?"

"So Flint..."

"Would you do us the honor..."

"And teach us your ways, our lord!" Fred and George finished simultaneously. 

Marcus could feel his face twitch just a bit at this. Honestly why was his boyfriend and almost all of Slytherin convinced he adopted Hufflepuffs?

This wasn't even on topic.

Meanwhile there were quiet snorts, snickers, and laughs up and down Slytherin table.

"I sometimes question how you're not a Gryffindor." Adrian said aloud.

"Adrian..."

"Never say that again?"

"Mm hm."

"Got it." 

"He's not wrong though..."

"Lee I'm not...this...this isn't even on topic?!"

"What else is new?" 

"That brain of yours for once."

"Someone hasn't been getting their coffee in the morning."

"Not the point, and because Montague's too busy gifting it away to Warrington as some early Christmas gift."

"Hey!"

"Ooh, sassy."

"...what is wrong with you?"

"Everything."

"...point taken."

Here he was, actually being concerned about someone who wasn't his boyfriend, and now he had to deal with this?

Just...why?

Yeah he enjoyed the lightheartedness, he supposed.

But it didn't ease any of his concerns.

He got the feeling the others felt the same, they just weren't focusing on it as much.

But Marcus never had as many friends or things taking up his time, so he had more time to observe.

And Potter was a curious case that he'd keep an eye on until the time he graduated in a few years.

He just hoped things would be relatively peaceful for the boy.

Because it was clear to Marcus at least that he didn't want to be what many wanted him to be.

He just wanted to be Harry Potter.

And public perception be damned, Marcus was gonna help him do just that.

Chapter Text

Harry thinks the best way to describe the opening feast of Hogwarts was...probably the best thing he'd ever experienced in his life.

He was honestly happy to be sorted into Hufflepuff, considering the other students in the house seemed very nice. 

He quite liked Cedric, Neville, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbott.

Though two, Zacharias Smith and Ernie MacMillan, well, they were honestly pretty annoying. They kept bugging him about his whole 'boy-who-lived' thing.

Harry didn't really get why people were so obsessed over that, he'd only been a baby when Voldemort killed his parents. He'd seen his mother die to protect him, and Voldemort tried to kill him with some kind of curse that Hagrid told him must have rebounded, considering it killed the dark lord and left Harry with his lightning bolt scar. 

But he hadn't done anything.

He'd been a baby, a defenseless baby that simply got lucky.

Had his mother not stepped in front of his crib to shield him that night, Harry knows he would definitely be dead.

He told Smith and MacMillan as such, but got nowhere, they seemed to want to obsess over him and worship the ground he walked on regardless. 

Cedric did cut in and warned them to change topics and leave him alone so he had time to process...everything.

Which seemed to work because they did relent, for now at least. He has the feeling they will be a pain later though.

He wasn't looking forward to this kind of stuff.

Then the end of the feast could only be described as one word.

Torture.

The song the headmaster and others at the teachers and house tables sang (some of them anyway) was highly irritating, had no rhythm, was very off key, with out of tune vocals and voices, tones and pitches that did not match and came together to form perhaps the greatest tragedy of all time.

Then finally they were sent off to their dormitories.

One of what Cedric called the prefects, Kendall Odbrew, who was a fifth year student he thinks, led them to the Hufflepuff dormitories. When they got there, there was a large portrait with some sort of knight on it (the individuals in the portraits could move and talk in them as if they were actually alive!) asked for the password, to which Odbrew responded with "pietas". The portrait opened, and they were led inside.

"What's 'pietas'?" Harry asked Cedric, who turned to look down to him.

"It's latin for 'compassion', something Hufflepuffs are usually very well known for. Passwords to the dormitories always relate to a specific house, and those passwords are often one of the traits each house holds."

"Wow."

Cedric simply chuckled at the awed look that came over his face, and eventually they entered into a larger room. There were sofas and seats around, one sofa in front of a fireplace. Not to mention there were vines and plants either up against or near some of the walls, and portraits lined the walls along with Hufflepuff house decor including their flag.

Prefect Odbrew gathered them all up in one group before she spoke again in the center of the room.

"I welcome all first years to Hufflepuff house. Here you will find we are more than just your friends, Hufflepuff is the house of badgers, where one badger goes, others follow."

And shortly a plump though not very big woman walked in to stand beside Odbrew. Wearing a patched, frayed hat which seemed to be a color between beige and brown, and shabby robes of the same color while her hair seemed to be in the process of slowly graying. She had a welcoming expression and a soft smile, Harry recalls seeing her up at the teacher's table briefly.

"Thank you miss Odbrew. I am professor Pomona Sprout, and I shall be your head of house and herbology professor for all of your seven years at Hogwarts. There isn't much to be said as most has already been covered by either the headmaster or miss Odbrew, but I would like to add something. Please do take miss Obrew's words to heart. Hufflepuff house is more than friends, we are family. We are soft-spoken, kind, loyal, and always at the ready to assist one another, but can become quite ferocious should those qualities be exploited and taken advantage of. We are soft, but we do not bend to the wills of others, we are badgers." Professor Sprout spoke, tone soft but firm. She continued "Something to address fairly quickly: first years have surely noticed the tension between Gryffindor and Slytherin, regardless of what you are told, do not take the words of others on the surface. We do not engage in such bigotry and do not treat any of the other three houses differently based off of preconceptions founded on top of misconception."

...

Harry decided he liked his head of house already. She was fair, kind, unbiased, and treated no student differently from the other, everyone received the same treatment from her, regardless of what house they were from or any potential family ties (he'd picked up from Susan that there was some sort of pureblood vs muggleborn and half-blood thing going on).

"I would like to warn you however that sometimes our own are singled out due to our unique relationship with Slytherin house. One thing you will find is that every Hufflepuff has at least one Slytherin friend or ally, often times more. Should you be treated poorly simply because of this, please do not hesitate to come to me or your prefects, we are always here to assist you, you need only ask. That is all I have for your first night here, for now, please ensure you practice proper hygiene and head to bed. Classes will begin tomorrow, and I want you all well prepared for them, we don't want anyone doing poorly because of lack of proper rest." 

With that, prefect Obrew showed them the dormitories, boys to right, girls to the left. Another first year had questioned this arrangement, to which Obrew explained in gentle terms as she could, that in the past some students had taken advantage of others while sharing the same dormitory, so eventually the dormitories were split between the boys and girls, and both were warded so that no one of one gender could enter the other dormitory unless granted some sort of specific access by professor Sprout (with her personal supervision of course). Harry understood this, he was still a child himself, but he knew that some people would no doubt take advantage of it if it was only one dormitory.

In the end he found himself with his own bed (his own bed!), which was in between Cedric's and (unfortunately) MacMillan. Thankfully MacMillan seemed content to leave him be.

As far as he knew, professor Sprout already had Hedwig taken to the owlery. He was a bit bummed at first, but decided that he'd go see Hedwig once he had some free time on his hands.

And Harry found he slept quite comfortably and happily that night.

The most comfortable he'd ever felt in his life.

And the next day, Harry got up early at six, classes didn't officially start until around eight, so he had a little time. He was always an early riser.

He quickly showered, brushed his teeth, and got dressed before exiting into the common room. 

Cedric came out not too long after him, and soon Hannah, Susan, Neville, Smith, and others.

Eventually they were called to the great hall for breakfast, and since they were already prepared, they got there quickly.

Susan, Hannah, Cedric, and Neville ate their breakfast rather eloquently, while Smith and MacMillan were very sloppy, slobbering food everywhere and not really caring. It did somewhat put off his appetite, but he ate anyway. 

Then professor Sprout handed out their schedules.

Okay, first class, Transfiguration.

Harry, Susan, Hannah, and Neville got there pretty early, only to find a cat sitting on the teacher's table in front of the classroom.

Where was professor McGonagall?

Harry mentally shrugged and took a seat, with Susan taking the one beside him.

Eventually the rest of the class entered, minus two, and they started taking notes. Something relating to turning a matchstick into a needle?

McGonagall was still absent.

Then the classroom door slammed open, with the two who entered late being Ron and Whom he's fairly sure is Seamus Finnigan.

"We made it, barely." Finnigan said.

"Blimey. Can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face if we were late?" Ron replied with relief.

Which soon evaporated.

The cat leaped off the desk and transformed into professor McGonagall, who walked over to the two and frowned at them.

Now that was amazing.

"...that was bloody brilliant." Ron apparently seemed to share the same thought.

McGonagall's expression was one of fondness and disappointment.

"Thank you for that assessment mister Weasley. Perhaps it might be better if I were to transfigure mister Finnigan or yourself into a pocket watch?" Harry honestly found himself amused at that, so did the rest of the class if the not so subtle snickering and giggling was of any indication. "That way one of you might be on time."

Finnigan blushed in embarrassment, looking down sheepishly, mirrored by Ron.

"We got lost." Ron admitted.

McGonagall's expression softened only slightly at this, and she sighed in exasperation.

"Might I suggest a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats?" she gestured to the only two seats left, and indeed they didn't, as they quickly got seated and the lesson finally started.

"I am professor Minerva McGonagall, I'll be your Transfiguration professor for all seven of your years at Hogwarts. Now, today's lesson, our first lesson, is the most simple. We will be learning how to turn a matchstick into a needle." She spoke to the class. Before turning to a matchstick on her desk and pointing her wand at it. The matchstick then morphed into a perfect needle.

Okay.

Harry loved magic.

"Now you all should have matchsticks present on your desks. What you must do is envision the matchstick in your mind, but then imagine a needle in its place. It will not instantly go from a matchstick to a needle, it will take a bit of time to morph into the other, and it isn't very difficult. Though should you have any problems, I will be coming around and checking on your progress and assist you should you require, the most I can offer is guidance however as you must accomplish the task yourself. Let us begin." 

And it started.

Everyone got their matchsticks and placed it in front of them before taking out their wands and trying to turn their matchsticks into needles.

Susan got hers on her second try.

Hannah also on her second try.

Neville took longer, getting it on his fifth.

others took longer due to impatience. 

Harry on the other hand hadn't even taken out his wand for the spell, he simply envisioned it in his mind with his eyes closed, and opened them again to find a needle on his desk.

Susan looked visibly baffled.

McGonagall had been coming by at that moment, and also appeared baffled, though only briefly before she regained herself.

"You can do wordless magic, mister Potter?" She asked. 

Harry looked up to her confusedly.

"Oh...I'm...not sure? I mean I just did as instructed, without my wand. I'm not sure...about any of it really professor."

McGonagall hummed in thought, while most of the others looked at him in surprise at the 'wordless magic' bit.

"Mister Potter, see if you can turn the needle back into a matchstick without your wand and without uttering a word."

Harry nodded so closed his eyes and thought of the needle, then a matchstick.

After a bit, he opened his eyes again just as some gasped quietly in surprise, and he found a matchstick on his desk again.

While most seemed quite shocked, McGonagall also appeared surprised, but nodded slowly and gave a warm smile, looking quite approving.

"Excellent work mister Potter, thirty points to Hufflepuff."

The class continued until eventually everyone had it.

By the end both Hufflepuff and Gryffindor had gained points, Hufflepuff gained a little over fifty, with Gryffindor not far behind.

Harry found he quite enjoyed Transfiguration. 

And Charms was just as pleasant he thought.

professor Flitwick was a fairly small man, he thinks Flitwick is part goblin.

"One of a wizard's most basic spells is levitation." he started. "The spell, Wingardium Leviosa, is the one you'll wish to use for this task. It involves a swish and flick motion, another of the simplest of spells."

Afterwards the class took out feathers to practice on.

Harry, Susan, and Hannah all got it on the first try, as did Draco, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini.

Again others took time, which was understandable, that is what school is for.

Flitwick was fairly soft-spoken, even if there seemed to be a stern look about him.

Crabbe did get aggravated at Parkinson when she corrected him about his pronunciation of 'leviosa', though seemed to get over it once he did get it.

He's not sure if he'd say it was a a favorite class of his, but Harry did enjoy it, it was fairly more simple than transfiguration, but then again this was only his first year here, of course it would be easy.

And once that class concluded, it was time for the next.

Potions.

Harry found professor Snape to be quite dramatic.

The man's entrance into the classroom certainly proved that.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class."

There was a pause.

Yes, dramatic.

But honestly it was kind of funny.

"As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few...who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper....in death."

...

"That is if you aren't as big a class of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." 

Ah...

Harry was currently debating on whether or not Snape was his favorite teacher now, he couldn't decide.

"Then again...perhaps some of you come to Hogwarts with skills and abilities so great that you feel confident enough...to not...pay...attention." Snape stares directly at Smith and MacMillan, with a not so hidden sneer.

"Smith!" said boy jumps as all attention is suddenly on him.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Smith shakes his head with his mouth agape making himself look like an idiot.

"You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Smith, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

"Uh..." Smith starts dumbly

Snape simply continues on.

"And what, Mr. MacMillan, is the difference between monkshood and wolfbane?"

MacMillan shrunk in embarrassment while shrugging.

To which Snape stares at them both again, looking highly unimpressed.

"Pity. Clearly neither of you inherited the intelligence your parents were praised for."

Which had both boys flushing red in the face in humiliation.

"Heir Malfoy, the answer to my first question?"

"The Draught of Living Death, sir." Draco smirked.

"Heiress Bones, the second question?"

"In the stomach of a goat, professor." Susan answered eloquently, somehow not bothered by any of this.

Snape then looked to him.

"and Mr. Potter, my third question?"

Thankfully Harry had some free time earlier and did do some reading and studying with Hannah.

"There is nothing difference sir, they are two different names for the same plant, called Aconite." he replied.

Snape nodded slowly, there was a hint of something akin to surprise and approval.

"Correct. Five points to each correct answer."

He then turned to the rest of the class.

"Well? Why aren't you all writing this down?"

To which the rest of the class immediately obeyed and they moved on. 

They moved on to mixing together potions, porcupine quills were involved, and professor Snape was going around the room looking over every cauldron. Harry had heard murmurs of Snape being biased against any house that wasn't Slytherin, but if that were really true then he wouldn't be going around and checking over every student's potion and ensuring nothing dangerous could occur if something wasn't mixed properly or a wrong ingredient was added. 

Neville had thankfully caught his mistake.

MacMillan did not.

Soon his cauldron toppled over, there were some screams, and then MacMillan crying out in pain as his skin broke out in boils (at least Harry thinks its boils, he's not entirely sure).

"Foolish boy!" Snape said as he rushed over, using his wand to vanish the spilled potion before turning to MacMillan.

"I take it you added the Porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire." the professor said, not hiding his annoyance. 

To be fair, Snape had instructed them to not add the quills until after they'd removed their cauldrons from the fire, MacMillan clearly hadn't followed those instructions (though judging from the look on Smith's face, Harry got the feeling it was Smith who'd done it and then framed MacMillan).

Snape must have been thinking something similar, as he swung around to look at Smith.

"Smith! Why didn't you stop him? Couldn't be bothered to reread instructions?"

"Wh-I didn't-"

"That tells me all I must know. fifteen points from Hufflepuff for your stupidity, Smith. Miss Parkinson would you and heir Zabini escort Mr. MacMillan to the hospital wing? Next time, MacMillan and Smith, follow...my...instruction."

Potions ended not long after, though Snape kept him back for a bit after everyone else left, minus Susan who stood outside waiting.

"Mr. Potter, settling in well I assume?" and...was his tone a bit softer? Or was he just imagining that?

Harry nodded but smiled as he recalled his day thus far.

"Yes Professor Snape. Hogwarts is quite enjoyable, all my classes and teachers have been wonderful so far." he then calmed himself and stared down in slight embarrassment. "I could do without how many in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw look at me though, I don't like how they keep looking at me like some sort of God, I'm only a child, I don't understand their hero worship."

When he looked back up, Snape was looking at him, and seemed to be trying to examine him, looking thoughtful even though his expression was the same.

"I must concede that you are far from what anyone expected, Potter."

"Good, I'd rather just be Harry, and not a celebrity based on some dark lord trying to kill me when I was a baby." 

"...I believe you may well give the british wizarding world a massive stroke with that sentiment." The corners of Snape's lips turned up as if resisting a smirk. Though then he quickly regathered himself. 

"I believe I shall speak to you again later, Mr. Potter, but for now you best be joining your friend, heiress Bones."

"Oh yeah, Defense is next. I've heard mutterings from some upper years that the teacher might not be great, but I'm optmistic, I'm sure he'll be fine. Thank you professor Snape." He then promptly left.

And he and Susan met up with Hannah, as they all simply waited for their next class.

Defense.

Let's see how this one goes.

Harry heard one rumor that professor Quirrell had some new obsession with garlic and onions, though his classroom had none of the sort.

He also heard that the man had a disability, being a constant stutter.

Though as soon as Quirrell spoke to the class, that was promptly proven untrue.

"Hello students, I am Quirinus Quirrell. I taught Muggle studdies, until I took a break and returned, and I shall be your D.A.D.A instructor for this term."

To which Dean Thomas raised a hand in question.

"Yes, Mr. Thomas?"

"What do you mean by this term professor? I mean, our other teachers have said they'll be our teachers for all our seven years at Hogwarts."

Quirrell nodded.

"Ah, allow me to explain. You see, there is some sort of odd curse upon the post for D.A.D.A, and any teacher hired for the post since right before the dark lord's official rise, never lasted for more than a year. Some who were hired proved highly incompetent, others abused their authority in a multitude of ways and were therefore fired, others resigned at some point during their time in the post, some vanished without a trace, and others died, a few in fairly gruesome ways." Quirrell explained evenly, while all the students (almost all of them) looked intrigued and a bit surprised. "Ultimately, headmaster Dumbledore decided no professor for the post should maintain the post for more than one term, fearful that those teachers would meet horrific fates otherwise. And since Charity Burbage has taken over my former post for the time being, I will be your instructor for this class for this term, though I cannot say who my successor will be as it has not been decided yet."

"My father heard a rumor it was going to be between an auror named Shacklebolt, or that man he calls an imbecile, Lockhart." Draco shared.

Quirrell didn't hide a frown at the mention of the one called Lockhart, which didn't bode well for that second option.

"Gilderoy Lockhart certainly...leaves something to be desired." he answered cryptically.

Before he changed topics.

"But enough of that for now, onto our first lesson."

Which as it turns out was Stupefy, one of the simplest spells, a stunning spell to be exact.

Quirrell made it a practical lesson the entire class.

They did start out with a discussion of different spells they may be aware of. Quirrell did ask them to give him 'light' spells that could be used for harm, and 'dark' spells that could be used for good, which was interesting. They learned that spells weren't inherently good or bad, there was no such thing as dark or light magic, simply magic, it just depended on the user's intent.

Honestly, Harry found Quirrell to be quite a competent and good teacher.

In the practical, Quirrell had them paired off, one student cast a shield (protego), the other would cast the stunning spell, so really they learned about quite a few spells, though only a couple in particular.

Harry was paired up with Draco as it turns out, and Draco was the one using the stunning spell.

Which Harry didn't mind, he quickly came to determine that he didn't like violence, and would prefer being the one using methods of self defense instead, that was just who he was.

"As you can see, with each spell, the shield charm diminishes slightly, until eventually, the shield disappears, leaving you vulnerable. Now this is simply the stunning spell, in real life however, some foes you may face will not be aiming to incapacitate, and protego will not block either the cruciatus curse or the killing curse. Though this is nothing you should be worried about right now, in the future perhaps, but only time will tell." Quirrell spoke as the class continued with their practical lesson.

Harry mentally made a note of this information to write down after.

Eventually, Quirrell himself got involved, pairing up with Harry for a final demonstration. 

He cast an unknown but otherwise harmless spell, which Harry blocked with protego (which they moved on to prominently learn about as well). This process continued a few times until Quirrell was done with the demonstration.

"Thank you Mr. Potter, and excellent spellwork."

By the end, Quirrell found himself at the top of the list as one of Harry's favorite professors. He was kind of a mix between Sprout and McGonagall.

And he was a Ravenclaw back when he'd been a student, which made more sense.

At some point Lavender Brown did ask why Quirrell was wearing a turban now (because apparently he didn't use to), to which the man replied that he started wearing one while on his sabbatical, he admitted he didn't remember the reasons of why as he suffered some sort of memory loss, but expressed that in the end he liked how the turban fit with his robes.

Harry found the memory loss part kind of odd, but didn't question it.

Maybe he got injured during his sabbatical?

But all in all, Defense class was another good one.

So by the end of the day, Harry had enjoyed all of his classes.

His first day had been wonderful.

And he even made a few new friends, Hermione Granger whom he'd met on the train before, Dean Thomas, and by extension Seamus Finnigan (apparently they were already friends before they came to Hogwarts).

And already he was ready for the rest of the year.

He thought it was going to be quite enjoyable.

He was quite confident in that thought.