Harry woke up the next day, wishing he had a few more hours to sleep but knowing it was time to get ready. Stretching, he went over and scratched Hedwig's head before gathering his clothes. As Professor Snape had advised him, he had his wand holsters secured and took his wands and Coral with him everywhere. The silver necklace was around his neck. Harry had yet to take it off since the potions master had given it to him.

Before heading to bed the previous night, a meeting had taken place in their Common Room, which was located in the basement of the castle. They met Professor Pomona Sprout, and Harry liked her immediately. She was straightforward and kind and had made it clear that they were all Hufflepuff, and as such should treat everyone fairly and equally. Harry appreciated the effort she made to get the house to treat him normally, though he knew it would take time before they stopped staring. He hoped it wouldn't take too long.

Breakfast was an interesting affair, the variety of food surprising him. He wondered how many cooks Hogwarts had, but then, he supposed, all of this could be made with magic. Ignoring the curious looks and not so subtle whispers, Harry brought his cup to his lips.

"Urgh," he gasped, the taste of Absorbance Potion saturating his tongue.

He immediately turned and looked at Professor Snape who was sitting at the head table. The professor must have been watching him because he was already looking right at him. Locking eyes, the potions master mouthed a very clear word, 'drink'.

Harry quickly did just that, chugging the drink away. Putting the cup back down, he watched in amazement as it refilled with another liquid. Certain it was the Draught of Nourishment, he chugged again, only to repeat the process when it refilled with the Utilization Potion.

"Wow, Harry. Thirsty much?" Cedric asked, having seen the second and third chug.

"Yeah," he said, before chugging for the fourth time to get the taste out of his mouth.

Neville gave Harry a curious look, but said nothing. Soon after, Professor Sprout came around and handed them their schedules.

"Brilliant, we have Potions first!" Harry said quite happily.

He received several horrified and confused looks.

"What?" he asked, now confused himself.

Several of the older students shook their heads. "You'll see," one of them said.

Harry looked at Cedric, wanting an explanation. Hesitantly, Cedric replied. "Well, you see, Harry, Professor Snape is . . . well, he can be pretty strict and sometimes . . . a bit harsh. I don't think there's ever been a year where he didn't make a few first years cry. Sometimes he even makes a few of the older students quite upset."

Harry frowned. The Professor had seemed strict in Diagon Alley, sure, and some of the things he said to him had been very direct and brutally honest, but he couldn't really see that man being downright mean. Well . . . maybe he could be to someone like Dudley, and he had probably been aggressive with the Dursleys in that little discussion Harry hadn't been privy to. They had certainly left him alone after that and made sure he had a full plate at every meal time. And he supposed the potions master did look a bit intimidating, tall and wearing all black.

He looked at Neville who was looking quite horrified.

"We'll just have to do our best and see," Harry said. "But I think Professor Snape is great."

"O-okay, Harry," Neville said, though he still looked a bit uneasy.

O o O o O

Severus waited for all of the first years to enter before he stepped from his hiding place and entered the room, his cape billowing behind him.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He scanned the faces before them, his heart clenching slightly as he recalled a few of their deaths.

Susan Bones had been killed by Voldemort himself after she had taken down two of his lieutenants. That had been almost a year after the fall of Hogwarts.

Justin Finch-Fletchley had been bitten by Nagini after defending his family in a raid.

And Hannah Abbot had succumbed to a curse she had received from Lucius Malfoy three days before that.

He cleared his throat, somehow managing to look sternly at them all. "Since there is no foolish wand waving here, most of you will find it hard to believe this is magic. As such, I don't expect many of you will understand the beauty of softly simmering cauldrons with their shimmering fumes or the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins with the ability to either save or take a life. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even . . . put a stopper in death. The only question is . . . are you a lazy good for nothing dunderhead, or are you willing and capable of learning one of the strongest magicks in existence?"

Severus nearly smiled. He had their complete and undivided attention, though he noticed only Harry was writing down what he had said. He fought back the regret that trickled in from the back of his mind. The boy had been interested initially the first time around, and he had ruined it — all because of a petty childhood squabble he hadn't been able to forgive or get past at that time.

He went through roll call, not pausing at all when he read Harry's name, just like he should have last time. He then went through the lesson, outlining what they would be doing as they got out their equipment and paired up. Thankfully, they wouldn't be brewing anything that lesson. They would be learning how to use the equipment and the techniques needed to chop, cut, slice, and dice properly.

Harry and Neville were working well together, though Severus knew Zacharias Smith, who was working behind them with a Ravenclaw, would need to be watched carefully. He was a malicious boy whose only stronger trait was cowardice.

Severus decided to reveal some of his own maliciousness if Mr. Smith decided to be foolish in his class. He had last time around, after all, and at least then he could let go some of his negative emotions without feeling bad later.

"P-Professor Snape?" a Ravenclaw asked, raising his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Duncan?" he asked, turning to the table where the student was stationed.

"Will these knives ever get dull? Muggle knives do and I wondered. . . ." he trailed off and gulped.

Evidently, he had heard about the Professor's alleged loyalties with purebloods and bias against muggleborns and all non-Slytherins.

"No, Mr. Duncan, they normally don't. They will, however, corrode if you cut certain acidic plants or spill aggressive potions on them."

"Oh, okay, Professor, thanks," he said, relief flooding him when the potions master did not react as he had expected.

The potions master turned away, walking around some of the other stations to make sure the Hufflepuffs were cutting correctly.

He passed by Harry and Neville, catching sight of Coral peeking out from Harry's sleeve as the boy began practicing the technique needed to crush a certain nut. He watched as she hissed something at him and he nodded with a small smile, adjusting his hold a bit to a more correct grip. He hissed a reply that Severus deduced to be a 'thanks'.

Returning back to the front, Severus corrected a few of the students on his way.

"Professor Snape?"

He turned, finding Mr. Smith raising his hand this time.

"Yes, Mister Smith," he stated.

"Potter brought his pet snake. Aren't pets not allowed in class?" he tattletaled.

Severus narrowed his eyes. Smith smirked, oblivious to the fact that he had just invited the Professor's wrath, believing he had gotten Harry in trouble.

"Mister Smith, tell me, are you under the impression that I do not know every single thing that goes on in my classroom, miniscule or large, hidden or open?" he asked, his voice alarmingly emotionless.

"Er . . . no, sir. I just thought—" He stopped when the potions master stepped forward, towering over his desk and leaning toward him.

"Or perhaps you enjoy being an insufferable tattletale?"

"N-no, I j-just thought y-you should be t-told what P-potter—" he began, wanting to step back, but unable to out of fear.

"Do-not—lie—To-Me," the professor said dangerously, the air around him tingling with angry magic. "You wanted to get him in trouble, nothing more. There was no thought of fair play or anything else. I do not tolerate such behavior. It is deplorable." Severus glanced at the work area in front of Smith, finding it messy, and the notes the boy had taken were horrendously sloppy. Smith had no excuse for that. He grew up in a wizarding home and in a prestigious one at that.

Time to test this spoiled prince.

"Tell me, Mr. Smith, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Smith swallowed, unable to answer. He didn't have a clue.

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

Smith looked down.

"And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"I-I don't know, sir."

"Pity. Clearly, you should be focusing on your studies rather than on the pets of your peers," he stated, before turning to face Harry.

Harry straightened, preparing himself for a reprimand. Sure, the professor had told him to take Coral everywhere, but maybe he should have made sure Coral remained in his sleeve so she wouldn't distract other students.

"Mr. Potter, where would you find a bezoar?"

Harry bit his bottom lip. "In the stomach of a goat, sir." He had read that near the end of the first chapter in the potions book.

"Monkshood and wolfsbane — what is the difference?"

"Just the name. They're the same plant, professor."

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

"A powerful sleeping potion, it's called. . . ." Harry paused, closing his eyes to try and remember. He had read about it several weeks ago. "Draught of. . . Draught of the Living Death."

"Correct, Mr. Potter. One more question. Where did you learn this information?"

"In the first chapter of 'Magical Draughts and Potions,' sir."

Severus nodded approvingly. "Fifteen points to Hufflepuff for not being a dunderhead."

The lesson continued and finished without further incident.

O o O o O

"Hey, Potter, how was Potions?" Draco asked as Harry stepped into the Charms classroom with Neville.

"Great," Harry said, "Though I see what people mean when they say he can be really strict."

Draco laughed. "Yeah, but he's great, isn't he?"

Harry nodded, a few of the Slytherins looking at Draco with surprise. He had told them he was friends with Harry Potter, but they hadn't believed him.

Harry and Neville ended up sitting behind Draco, Vince, and Greg. They were at the far end of the class and against the wall. The classroom was made to have the students look down to where the professor could more easily demonstrate spells.

Draco turned around in his seat, as class hadn't started yet and the professor had yet to show himself. He waved at Coral, who was sticking her head out from under Harry's sleeve.

"I heard someone got in trouble for pointing Coral out to Professor Snape," Draco said.

"Oh, you heard about that already?" Harry asked, leaning over the desk to better talk with him since he was slightly below him.

"Are you kidding? A first year Ravenclaw was laughing so hard about it in Defense Against the Dark Arts that it was easy to pick up what had happened as they replayed it with their friends."

Harry glanced over at Zacharias Smith, who was near the back of the classroom. It was clear he was not happy and was currently seething. Thankfully, he was far enough away not to hear their conversation, but he probably knew the story was already circulating.

Harry nodded softly, before deciding to change the subject. "What was Defense Against the Dark Arts like?"

"It was pretty disappointing actually. Quirrell is afraid of his own shadow, and he stutters so much it's nearly impossible to understand anything he's saying, and what I have been able to understand is lame. I'm going to stick to reading the book and just ignore whatever he's trying to teach," Draco answered. "Professor Snape has told us that that is sometimes what one must do; granted, he was talking about History of Magic."

"Okay, thanks for the heads up," Harry said.

"No problem. Anything I should know about Potions?"

"Make sure you read the first chapter before class. In Diagon Alley, he advised me to always read a chapter ahead of every lesson."

Draco nodded. "I will do that."

Just then, Professor Flitwick entered, marking the start of their first Charms lesson.

Draco and his two friends turned back around as the professor called roll.

O o O o O

Severus sat down for lunch as students began trickling into the Great Hall. He would never admit it to anyone, but it was nice to have the castle full again . . . well and whole. To him, it had been nearly three years since Hogwarts had been like this. He had missed it. Deeply.

Getting back into the routine of teaching was another thing as well. He knew his older students had noticed something was different, he only hoped it wasn't too big of a change that they would comment about it to one of the other professors.

He shook himself, realizing that even if they were to bring it up with his colleagues, there wasn't anything bad about the change. The only bad thing was the fact it would draw unwanted attention to himself. They would begin asking questions, wondering why he had altered his lesson plans and adjusted the way he taught certain things. They had already become suspicious enough in the Head of House meeting a few weeks before. He really didn't want to have to deal with more. But, he grudgingly acknowledged, he would have to soon, and it couldn't be helped. For the biggest thing they would no doubt notice, whether or not any student brought it up to them, was the lack of crying first years.

Sure, he had ripped into Smith like a ruthless tiger, but he had been justified (at least more than he had been in the past with students). It wasn't like his old verbal assaults, where he would bash a student's confidence against the wall and pound it until there was nothing left but tears.

He quietly sighed. The lack of tearful first years would be his undoing.

O o O o O

Harry entered the DADA classroom behind Neville and Susan Bones. Quickly, the room was full with first year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. It was the second day of classes and Harry was eager to learn more about magic.

Harry looked around, finding a flaming red haired boy sitting next to a brown headed boy at the table beside his and Neville's. There were two other Gryffindor boys behind them. The Gryffindor girls had claimed their seats on the far side of the room, and the only thing Harry was able to gather from them was that they were all avoiding a frizzy haired girl who ended up closest to the Gryffindor boys. She was currently reading the DADA book and was the same girl who had said snakes were not on the allowed pet list.

"Really, Weasley, I cannot believe you brought your pet rat to class," the frizzy haired girl said, no longer reading her book and looking at the red headed boy at the table beside her.

"Mind your own business, Granger, I'm not breaking the rules," he answered testily.

She huffed. "Honestly, I wish I hadn't said anything about the rules I had looked up," she said.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You better not let your rat disrupt the lesson," she said. Harry wondered if she noticed how bossy she was being. "Otherwise, you might lose our house points."

"He just sleeps, so stop being so pushy. He's not your pet anyway," he said, turning his back to her and petting his rat — which he had placed on the desk beside his DADA book.

Harry looked back at Neville, both of them finding the exchange between the two Gryffindors interesting.

"I wonder what rules she was referring to exactly," Harry said quietly.

"Padma Patil from Ravenclaw told me Granger looked up the rules on pets after she had heard about Professor Snape allowing you to keep Coral in class," Susan Bones said, leaning toward them from her table she was sharing with Justin.

"She was that concerned about it?" Harry asked.

Susan shrugged. "Evidently, and then she informed the Gryffindors that the rules say pets are allowed in class, but that they cannot interrupt the lesson or disrupt class."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Susan."

"No problem."

Harry turned back to the front of the class as the DADA professor stepped out from his office and to the board.

"G-good m-orn-ning c-class," he began.

Harry instantly recalled Draco's advise about just ignoring the lecture and reading instead.

"T-this w-w-will be y-you f-first l-lesson in D-defense Ag-against th-the D-dark Arts c-class."

Harry blinked. Draco was right. He glanced at Neville, who was no doubt remembering Draco's words the day before.

The lesson, or rather the stuttering mess, continued from there. Harry could hardly wait until lunch, especially when he started getting a headache. He wondered if it was from listening to Professor Quirrell talking or if it was something else, though the fact that his scar was hurting didn't make sense at all.

Finally, the lesson ended, and they all stood and began heading out.

Harry briefly heard Weasley's name being called by the stuttering professor, and wondered if it was because of the rat — after all, rats were not on the normal pet list and might be considered exotic. Not looking back, Harry headed to the Great Hall with the other Hufflepuffs, hoping his headache would go away.

O o O o O

The first week came to an end and Harry couldn't believe how quickly it had gone by. He was now especially grateful he had read ahead and done what the Professor had suggested. The assignments were much easier since he had done so, and his penmanship was by far one of the best of his peers. He was fairly confident he would at the very least get Acceptables on all of his finished assignments.

He was enjoying most of his classes. Transfiguration, he decided, would be fun when transfiguring objects and elements only. He wasn't looking forward to casting on animals and changing them. It just felt so wrong for some reason. Charms seemed to be quite promising, and he was really looking forward to getting into the more advanced spells, like ones that animated objects. Herbology was relaxing. It reminded him of the days he spent in the yard gardening for the Dursleys. Neville was a natural, and the two of them happily worked alongside each other during the lessons with Ravenclaw. Potions was easily his favorite class, and Neville was finding himself enjoying it as well, especially when Professor Snape commented that Herbology was very useful in Potions and that someone hoping to be a potions master had better be knowledgeable in Herbology or they would be doomed for failure.

The two classes he was not enjoying were Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic. Both were unbelievably boring, and, on top of that, he kept getting bizarre headaches in DADA. Bizarre because it seemed as if the headaches were always centered on his scar.

He hadn't really told anyone yet, except Coral, though he had briefly mentioned getting headaches to Neville but hadn't said more than that. Coral said he should tell someone, but he honestly didn't know how, and who should he tell? And what was he going to tell them – 'Whenever I go into the DADA classroom, I get a scar-ache, oh, and sometimes in the Great Hall'?

But, he supposed he could tell Professor Snape. He would at least hear him out and maybe be able to tell him what to do. Hopefully. He also wanted to ask the professor about other things he was curious about. Coral wholeheartedly agreed.

Maybe he could go to him tomorrow, after he had visited Hagrid? Hagrid had sent him a note the day before, inviting him for tea.

"Whatcha thinking about, Harry?" Neville asked, coming over and sitting beside him on the couch.

The Common Room was empty because most everyone had gone outside since classes that week were over.

Harry gave his scar a short rub. Neville glanced up at it, a little concerned.

"Are you alright? Have a headache again?" he asked.

Harry nodded. They had just come back from lunch. "It's really weird. I've noticed it only happens in DADA and sometimes in the Great Hall. I don't know what's causing it."

"Maybe you're allergic to something. Maybe a certain type of food or something that's also in DADA? You know, there is a lot of garlic in that classroom, and garlic is often used in cooking," he said.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think it's garlic. I've cooked with that loads of times. But maybe it's something else like that. But it's not just a headache. It's my scar. It sort of throbs a bit, and the headache branches out from it. I don't know, maybe it's a warning of some kind."

Neville frowned. "Well, don't you think you should tell someone? Has it ever hurt before?"

"It's never hurt before, but yeah, I'm going to go tell Professor Snape when I get the chance. Maybe he can tell me what it means. Who knows, maybe it's just some weird herb that reacts to curse scars or something?"

"Maybe. But maybe you should tell Professor Sprout too. I mea—"

"Tell me what, dear?" a kind voice asked from behind them.

"Professor Sprout!" Harry couldn't help but gasp as he rotated about.

"Sorry I scared you, Messrs. Potter and Longbottom, and I had not meant to overhear, but what is it you should tell me?" she asked, her soft features giving her a loving glow.

Neville looked at Harry uncertainly.

"I need to go talk with Professor Snape about something," he said evasively.

He didn't want to just spill it out right now, she would think he was insane!

"About what, dear?" she asked, moving around the couch to sit in the love seat across from them.

"Well, um. . . ."

Why was this so hard? he wondered. He didn't want to lie, but he didn't really feel comfortable about telling her. He had just gotten enough nerve to tell Neville a few minutes ago.

:Ask her to go with you when you talk to Professor Snape: Coral suggested, revealing her head from his sleeve.

Harry was pleasantly surprised by Sprout's lack of surprise. Instead, she looked as if she had expected Coral to suddenly make herself known. She patiently waited.

:Do you think she'll believe me?: Harry asked softly.

:You haven't given her a reason not to: Coral pointed out. :I sense she is someone you can trust this with:

Harry looked back up at his Head of House. She really was a comforting figure. Sure, she didn't look strong and intimidating like Professor Snape, but she did look like someone who could be brave and powerful when they needed to be, never mind her short stature and plump build.

"Could you go with me to speak with Professor Snape?" Harry asked. "I-uh . . . don't want to explain this multiple times."

"Of course," she agreed, standing up. "How about going now? I know he is currently in his office, and now would be a good time to visit him."

"Oh, okay." Harry got up as well, glancing at Neville.

"I think it'll be best if I wait here, Harry," he said shyly.

"Alright." Harry didn't know if he was relieved or not about Neville staying behind.

"I'll finish my Potions assignment, so when you get back, we can go over it together and make sure I didn't forget anything," he said with a hesitant smile.

Professor Sprout looked on in pride. She loved it when she saw her little 'Puffs working hard in their classes.

Harry nodded, before looking to the Herbology professor. "I'm ready, professor."

So they went out of the yellow and black common room and down to the dungeons to Snape's office.

O o O o O

Harry glanced up at Sprout as they headed down.

:The kind professor is curious about you: Coral said. : She is also concerned:

Harry looked down a Coral, finding her flicking her tongue over his hand. He often subconsciously held his left arm against himself now so that Coral was always very close. He didn't want anyone accidently bumping into her when going to and from classes.

"What do you think of Hogwarts so far, Mr. Potter?" Professor Sprout asked.

"It's great, even better than what I had read in 'Hogwarts, a History,'" he answered.

Sprout smiled. "I see you are getting along with Mr. Longbottom. Did you meet on the train?"

"Yeah. He had lost his toad, Trevor, and Coral told me where he was."

Sprout looked at Coral, whose head was uncovered, gazing at her. "She is a gorgeous snake," she said, then gave a little chuckle when Coral lifted her head proudly.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "A bit vain though."

:Hey, I am not:

:Okay, easily enamored:

:'Enamored'? Isn't that a big word for someone your age?:

:I read it in the book for controlling my inner magic Professor Snape gave me: He shrugged, before realizing he was having a side conversation and ignoring the plump professor beside him. "Sorry, Professor."

"Oh, it's fine, dear. I take it she didn't like being called vain?"

Harry laughed. "No."

Upon saying that, they made it to the potions classroom and entered, before heading to the right to where Snape's office was. Giving Harry a reassuring smile, Sprout knocked.

"Come in," they heard the potions master call through the door.

Harry stepped in first, Sprout close behind. Severus looked up from his work. With a nudge, Harry continued forward until he was right in front of the desk.

"Mr. Potter?" the Head of Slytherin House questioned, asking several questions with only those two words.

Harry glanced at his Head of House uneasily. "Um . . . I've been getting headaches . . . strange headaches," he began.

Severus frowned.

"Oh, dear, you have?" Sprout asked, concerned. "Why haven't you gone to the nurse?"

"These are different," Harry muttered.

"What do you mean?" Snape asked.

"Well, it only happens in the Great Hall or in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and it's. . . ." Harry paused and touched his scar. "It's my scar. It hurts and the ache spreads. I told Coral and Neville, and they said I should tell someone, so I . . ." Harry blushed. "I figured I should tell you. Maybe you can figure out what I'm allergic to, being a Potions Master and all."

"Possibly." Severus shared a look with Sprout and pulled out his wand. "Mr. Potter, come around the desk for me." Harry did so, completely trusting, although curious. "I'm going to cast some diagnostic spells on you," he stated, before doing so.

Sprout watched closely.

"Hmm, yes, I detect residual evidence of a recent headache, though it is unlike any headache I have examined before. And it is indeed identifying your scar as the origin."

Sprout stepped forward. "But what is causing it, Severus? You don't think . . . ?"

Harry watched their interaction with interest. Severus didn't answer as he narrowed his eyes, bringing his wand up again. "I am going to try something, Mr. Potter, but I need your consent."

Sprout's eyebrows rose very high. "Severus, surely that is not necessary."

"It will enable me to, at the very least, rule out possible causes like: stress, fatigue, head injuries, poison, curses, and even a few dark magicks." Severus turned his eyes back to Harry.

"What will you do?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"I am going to skim the surface of your mind. I won't delve into your memories, but I will get a glimpse of what has been happening to your mind since school has started. Think of it as an inspector walking around the perimeter of a house — the house being your mind."

Harry looked up at Sprout.

"It is your decision, Mr. Potter," she said. "It could give us some answers, but can be a rather invasive approach. Only give your consent if you are comfortable with it."

Harry glanced at Coral.

:I trust Professor Snape: she stated.

"Well, if it'll help us figure out what's happening . . . okay, I consent," Harry said, looking at Severus before biting his bottom lip. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake.

"Very well. Just to warn you, you will have a headache after this, but it will be worse if you fight me — so don't. Ready?" Severus was staring right into Harry's eyes as Harry nodded. "Legilimens."

Harry felt a pressure grow at the front of his forehead, before the pressure spread out. He felt dazed, awake, yet not. He had to fight the alarm growing at his center as he felt a presence solidify in his mind, much like the sorting hat, but much, much stronger. He knew it was Professor Snape, but it didn't make it any less strange. He felt the professor shift in his mind, skimming across the surface like he had said he would. It was the most bizarre experience Harry had ever felt. And then it was over. His eyes refocused, finding the Potions Master rubbing his temple and looking quite wary and upset.

"Professor?" Harry asked.

Sprout was looking on anxiously.

Finally, Severus spoke. "Someone has been trying to enter Mr. Potter's mind, and they have already made alarming progress."

Sprout gasped, quickly placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Should I get the Headmaster, Severus?"

The potions master nodded without hesitation. "Yes, he needs to know about this right away."

"Someone's been trying to get in my head?" Harry cried, understandably upset.

:Who are they? I'll kill 'em! No one tries to do anything like that to my Harry! I'll bite 'em! Rip their eyes out! How dare they?: Coral hissed lividly.

Harry was undeniably terrified. How was he supposed to protect himself from this? And who was doing this, and why?

"Don't worry, Mr. Potter, the Headmaster will sort this out," Sprout said, before heading to the fireplace and calling, "Headmaster's Office!" She disappeared in a flash of green flame.