“Hi Ron!” Harry grins as he spots his red headed friend sat a desk with another Gryffindor boy when he makes his way into the transfiguration classroom for his first ever class. The relief of finally seeing his friend again was immense and he was happy when he saw he would have quite a few lessons with the Gryffindors. Perhaps it wasn’t the end of this friendship after all.
His hopes shattered as Ron barely even glanced at him when he called out to him.
Perhaps he just didn’t hear him. Harry was about to call again when Professor McGonagall ushered them all to sit down and be quiet. Harry ended up being sat next to one of the Slytherin girls who Harry thinks is called Millicent Bulstrode. She sat in the middle of the desk with her paper and belongings effectively shoving Harry into the tiniest corner of the work bench.
Throughout Transfiguration Harry attempted to get Ron’s attention again but to no avail.
Harry wished he was sitting further forward so he could get his attention but also because sitting at the back made it rather difficult to see the blackboard McGonagall was pointing to. While squinting at the board and trying to take notes on the 3 laws of Transfiguration, Harry decided he would try and talk to Ron after class but by the time he left the classroom in search for them, they were thoroughly immersed in the crowds.
Harry tried not to be too disappointed as he would have more opportunities to see them later on in the day.
Next period, Harry had Herbology with the Ravenclaws so he hurried after the other Slytherins so he could follow the way to not get lost, but he ensured he followed from a distance so they wouldn’t bother him. A small woman ushered them into a greenhouse where she introduced herself as Professor Sprout.
She seemed kind to Harry and she proved him correct when she awarded him 5 points for correctly adding a hydration potion to his shrivel-fig tree.
As always, his happiness didn’t last long. As soon as Professor Sprouts back was turned, someone threw a Shrivel-fig at Harry’s station making it explode on his robes. Harry didn’t see the culprit but suspected the Slytherin’s due to their loud laughter after the event. Professor Sprout scolded the boys but obviously assumed Harry was in on the joke and did not punish them for it.
Soon the class finished, and the students were dismissed to breaktime.
Most students were overjoyed by the simple break, but Harry felt himself panic.
What was he supposed to do in all that time?
Double History of Magic with the Gryffindors was next on his schedule and Harry decided to head to the fourth floor in the meantime. Maybe he’d see Ron there and get the chance to speak to him?
Once finding the correct classroom, Harry stood outside it and waited, staring down at his holey tattered shoes. He had nothing else to do, and no one to talk to.
Maybe during lunch break he could go to the school toilets and try to wash the shrivel fig remanence off his robe.
Ten Minutes of watching students walk past and ignore him later, Professor Bins welcomed Harry into the classroom and students came filing in slowly. Professor Bins was a ghost and although he wasn’t unfriendly, he didn’t exactly want to chat to the students either. Harry took a seat at the front of the classroom hoping that he would be able to read the board better and spot the Gryffindors when they came in.
When Ron entered the classroom again with some other Gryffindor boys, he tried to talk to them and twisted in his seat to try and get their attention but no such luck. Harry sighed, frustrated as Bins started the lecture.
He tried really hard to concentrate and listen to what Bins was saying, he really did. But his monotonous voice along with the constant kicking to the back of his chair by Malfoy, rendered his efforts useless. Professor Bins dismissed the class for lunch and Harry speedily tried to pack up his belongings so he could catch up with Ron and the other Gryffindors, but he was too late and they were gone yet again.
Sullenly, Harry made his way to the Great Hall for lunch. He noticed Ron sat at the Gryffindor table, animatedly chatting to his brothers about his first day of school. Harry longed to be sat next to him right now. He had only known Ron barely a day, yet he missed him already.
It was a rather lonely lunch for Harry but that was nothing he wasn’t used to, at least he was actually getting consistently fed here.
Stay positive Harry repeated in his head. No matter how much he hated the other Slytherins or missed Ron he had to focus on the positives.
Harry made a mental list.
1. He got to sleep in a bed
2. He got 3 amazing meals a day
3. No Dursleys
After having some food, and narrowly avoiding Malfoy’s leg trying to trip him up, Harry found the nearest boys’ toilets and tried to wash out the dried Shrivel-fig from his robes. It wasn’t toxic and would easily wash out, but it was starting to smell now, and Blaise had called him a 'Stinky Fig-Pig' at lunch, so Harry wanted to get it out now. Not that they wouldn’t just find other horrible things to call him.
Next on Harry’s schedule was Charms with the Hufflepuffs and Harry decided to once again wait outside the classroom for it to start.
The Charms Professor, Professor Flitwick, had seen Harry standing there and invited him in early when class was nearly about to start. Harry liked the professor who was barely any taller than him, he seemed kind and let Harry choose his seat as he was the first one in the classroom.
Students began filing in moments later and Harry decided he quite liked Charms. Harry chose a seat near the front of class so he would be able to see the board clearly but that also worked in his favour as the other Slytherins wanted to sit at the back of class, more in favour of picking on some small Hufflepuffs than him, so he wasn’t bothered by them.
Flitwick also awarded him 10 points when he correctly performed the wand movements for the levitation charm. Harry beamed at the positive feedback and decided that yes Charms was definitely his favourite lesson so far.
Potions was Harry’s last class of the day, and it was with the Gryffindors. He was a bit wary because it was with Professor Snape who Harry knew was already taken against him.
Still happy from his success in Charms, Harry decided he was determined to get Ron to talk to him this time. Maybe they could even spend their free time after class together, so Harry wasn’t alone again.
It was raining heavily outside now, and the dungeons were especially dark and dreary as Harry followed the other Slytherins down to the Potions classroom.
Professor Snape greeted them all at the door with a sneer and a swift hand gesture to enter and they did. Harry kept his head down as an attempt to not be noticed.
He found a stool near the middle of the classroom, and ended up sitting next to Millicent Bulstrode again, and like before, she gave him the smallest amount of workspace while she chatted loudly to the other Slytherin girls.
The Gryffindors came in next, and Harry noticed Professor Snape’s grimace deepen. Well at least Harry wasn’t the only one Snape seemed to dislike, Harry thought.
Snape slammed the door loudly after the last Gryffindor had entered and the class immediately hushed. He stormed to the front of the classroom, his robes billowing behind him.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. Harry could barely breathe in case it brought attention to himself. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...”
Snape strolled up and down the classroom, coming too close to Harry that he was comfortable with, his robes billowing behind him.
“I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
While Snape was talking Harry turned his head to see if he could spot Ron. However as soon as he spotted the vibrant head of hair, he jumped in surprise by a violent shout.
“Potter!" shouted Snape suddenly, as his hand slammed on Harry’s desk with a deafening crack. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry’s mind spiralled as he stared back, confused. He didn’t know he was supposed to have a prior knowledge of potions before coming here. He registered none of the words coming out of Snape’s mouth.
“I-I-I don’t know sir.” Harry stuttered, staring down at his desk as he heard Draco imitate his stutter behind him.
Snape’s lips curled into a sneer. “Clearly fame isn’t everything is it Potter? Let’s try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”
Harry felt his face grow hot and he spotted a Gryffindor girl with frizzy hair, shoot her hand in the air. Why him? She clearly knew the answers to his questions.
“I don’t know, Sir.” Harry repeated clearer this time (in hopes Draco would stop imitating jis stammering), his eyes still firmly on the desk.
“Didn’t think to open a book before coming here Potter?” Snape sneered and Harry wished the ground would swallow him up. “One more try Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”
The Gryffindor girl was basically stood up now, and Harry wished in the moment he could read minds. Unfortunately, he couldn’t. “I don’t know, sir.”
Snape’s lip twitched, almost as if Harry had fallen straight into his trap. “What a shame.” He spat. “For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?”
Snape yelled at the class and Harry scrambled for a pen with his shaky hands to write down what Snape said before he forgot.
“And that’s twenty points from Slytherin for failing to prepare for class, Potter.” Snape said and Harry felt the glares of the other Slytherins looking at him in distaste. “And a further ten points, and a detention, for ignoring my instruction this morning to fix your tie.”
Harry’s hands went straight to his neck where his tie lay. He’s completely forgotten about Snape’s warning about his tie at breakfast but then he realised there’s not much he really could’ve done about it, as he still can’t tie it.
“Get it fixed by tomorrow at Breakfast Potter, or it’ll be an additional ten points and two detentions. Do you understand?” Snape snapped.
“Yes Sir.” Harry felt as if his small high from Charms had been thoroughly flattened.
Harry only hoped that Ron wouldn’t hate him for being a Slytherin and they could spend some time together at Free time after class to raise his spirits. Maybe Ron could tie his tie for him again and show Harry how to do it for tomorrow.
Harry brewed a rather terrible potion in class. His were shaking something terrible and he also struggled to read the board correctly from his seat. That rewarded him a big lecture from Snape about it, rendering Harry even more miserable.
He had even blamed Harry for not reminding Millicent to add the beetle juice while stirring the potion, causing it to change the wrong colour. How was it his fault? Could this day get any worse?
Harry had all his belongings safely packed up by the time Snape dismissed them all and all but ran out the classroom, after Ron and his friends.
“Hey Ron!” Harry shouted once they had left the classroom and he practically ran down the corridor after them. He saw Ron’s eyes flicker over to him, but he just continued to chat animatedly to another Gryffindor boy about something.
No. Harry was not giving up that easily. “Ron, wait!”
“Why does that Slytherin keep calling you Ron?” The boy Ron was talking to asked him before shooting glares at Harry.
He all but spat out the word Slytherin, making Harry grimace a little but he ignored it and faced Ron, glad they finally stopped walking and looked at Harry.
“Um hiya Harry…” Ron said quietly, but his face lacked the cheeky smile Harry was used to from the train. In fact, he almost looked embarrassed.
“Um, how are you? How’s Gryffindor?” Harry asked shyly, his heart racing, as words tumbled out his mouth without thinking over them first. He shoved his hands in his robes to attempt to hide how bad they were shaking. “We haven’t really had chance to talk since the train and well I thought we could catch up before dinner-”
Some of the Gryffindor boys around Ron mumbled something to Ron and Harry thought he heard the word snake.
Ron cringed and interrupted Harry’s ramble. “Look Harry, give it a rest.”
Harry froze, his blood running cold. Yes, this day could indeed get worse.
“I’m a Gryffindor now and on the train, I thought you would be too, but I guess I was wrong.” Ron shrugged and he was clearly embarrassed to be the centre of attention with his Gryffindor friends. “Just leave it, ok? Go find some of your snakes to hang out with instead. It’ll never work.”
Harry wanted to tell him that he wished with all his heart he was in Gryffindor too, not a Slytherin. He wanted to tell him that he couldn’t hang out with the other Slytherins because they all hated him. He wanted to tell Ron to stay and please be his friend. He was longing for the feeling of the train to be back again. The feeling of having friends there for you. Friends to make you laugh. Friends to stand up to bullies for you. Friends to just spend time with. So he didn’t feel so alone.
But he didn’t say any of that.
Ron’s friends began to walk away and after getting no response from Harry, Ron ran to catch up with them, leaving Harry alone once again.
There was no way Harry was going to the Slytherin Common Room or back to the dorms, so Harry ran up to stairs of the dungeons and before he knew it he was racing out of the front gates and into Hogwarts grounds.
He barely noticed the rain pelting down on his body, which made violent shivers wrack his entire being. He couldn’t find it in himself to care that his new uniform would be ruined and his hair sodden. A tree root Harry hadn’t noticed cause him to trip and he went face first into the wet grass, coating him and his uniform in wet mud.
That was all it took for the emotion to finally take over Harry and he felt a sob rise up in his throat. He had such high hopes for this new life. Why did he have to be such a freak and ruin everything?
The sobs kept coming now and he couldn’t make them stop. All his pent-up frustration coming out.
It was strange. He rarely cried at the Dursleys; he was numb to their pain. And although he had been alone his entire life, he truly felt lonelier that in his entire life.
He wondered why his emotions couldn’t seem to hold it together like he usually did. He had been disappointed too many times to count. He had been bullied so many times that he had accepted his fate. He had been a reject and outcast from everyone else for as long as he could remember. So why was this any different?
Because he let himself hope.
He let himself hope and believe that all the misery, and bullies and loneliness was behind him. Now he knew better.
Misery followed Harry around like it was his own personal rain cloud. Maybe when he somehow defeated Voldemort, he had been cursed to a life of suffering. Or maybe Voldemort was haunting him. Making sure Harry was never happy.
A violent shiver raked his body and Harry didn’t know whether it was because of his crying or because of the freezing rain pelting down on him.
Harry’s next thought was interrupted as he lifted his head from between his knees to see a figure walking towards him.
“’Arry? Is that you?”
Chapter 4