Harry Potter and all characters, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling, not me.
The Time Meddlers
Chapter Four - Starting School
"Firs' years!" shouted Hagrid for all to hear as Harry and his three `new' friends made their way off the train.
"Hi, Hagrid," said Harry enthusiastically as they caught up to him.
"Hiya, Harry."
"These are Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley. They're first-years, too."
"It's good ta meet ya. Now, you'll have ta get in a boat. Ya four can share." He then raised his voice for the other first-years to hear. "No more'n four to a boat."
The quartet got on a boat and enjoyed the ride. Harry realized just how much he missed Hogwarts when he saw the castle. He did manage to simply gaze at it silently like the others. Hagrid found Neville's toad in one of the boats while they were disembarking. Harry, along with the others, followed Professor McGonagall into the castle, and decided that saying anything to alleviate his friends' fears about the sorting would make him look suspicious, so he stayed silent. Besides, he was nervous of what the hat would say when it was put on his head.
The sorting went exactly the same as before. After the hat sang his song, Hermione and Neville both went to Gryffindor; Malfoy went to Slytherin. Finally, McGonagall announced, "Potter, Harry."
He totally ignored the whispering about him as he approached the bench and put on the hat. Almost immediately, he heard the hat speaking in his head. "Well, well, well. What do we have here, Mr. Potter? Not something I've seen often. It's been at least a few centuries."
"Really?" thought Harry. "There have been others? Who?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you or anyone else what I see in other students' heads, which answers your next question. No, I can't tell anyone, not even the headmaster. Godric enabled me to read minds for the sole purpose of sorting students - not spying on them. I suppose you'll want Gryffindor again, although this is a very Slytherin plan you have."
"Yes, please. It will be very helpful."
"Very well. I do hope that you're more careful with your time-meddling than the last one I encountered. Perhaps the older Miss Granger will be of some help to you when she returns."
"I hope so," thought Harry.
"Good luck," the hat said in Harry's mind before shouting, "Gryffindor!" for all to hear. With great relief, and ignoring the cheers from the Weasley twins, Harry took off the hat and sat next to Neville and across from Hermione, waiting patiently until Ron was sorted into, "Gryffindor!" as well.
After Dumbledore said a few words ("Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"), the tables filled with food. Harry remembered how much he'd enjoyed this meal the first time he'd sat through this feast. He'd never been able to eat his fill before then and was malnourished. However, now, he'd been eating much better for the past month, so eating his fill wasn't as foreign a concept to him now, so he didn't really enjoy the feast as much, and really couldn't understand how Ron, who lived at the Burrow where feasts were common, could possibly be as enthusiastic about meals as he obviously was.
He passed his time conversing with Hermione about classes, letting her do most of the talking. To Harry's surprise, Neville joined in the conversation as well, expressing gratitude that Harry and Hermione had helped him some in Transfiguration. The last time around, all Neville talked about was how he was surprised to be accepted at Hogwarts. Ron was busily eating, and wouldn't have noticed if a Death Eater attack occurred unless his food was destroyed in the process.
While Harry was taking a bite of steak, he glanced up at the staff table and started choking. He knew that Quirrel had been killed by the goblins, but hadn't given any thought as to who his replacement would be until that moment. Sitting close to Dumbledore, with Snape (who Harry hated no matter what the headmaster said) glaring at him, was none other than Remus Lupin. He was wearing shabby clothes similar to what he had been wearing the first time Harry had met him. Apparently, he hadn't taken the train this time. Truthfully, Harry had wondered why he'd taken the train during third year in the previous timeline. Surely if he could've woken up long enough to get on the train, he could've apparated. Harry guessed that Dumbledore had asked him to be on the train because of the Dementors, which turned out to be a good idea.
Neville slapped Harry on the back, which was sufficient to stop his choking. "Are you alright, Harry?" asked a concerned-looking Hermione.
"I'm fine," he said quickly. "Just went down wrong." He looked at the staff table again, and was actually pleased to see Professor Trelawney sitting there. Her death had occurred on September 2nd of what would've been Harry's 7th year, a few months before the other teachers were murdered. Voldemort had come to the school and mind-raped her with Legilimency until he got the prophecy out of her broken psyche, leaving her as a complete vegetable until he mercifully killed her after having some fun with her body for a few hours. Harry had witnessed most of the interrogation through his link to Voldemort while he was still mourning Arthur Weasley, who'd been killed the day before. The newspaper had said nothing about the Divination professor's death.
He then finished his meal and awaited the headmaster's announcements, which, besides introducing Moony, did include advising staying off the third floor corridor, "to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death," so he knew that the Philosopher's Stone was still at the school. However, since Quirrel had been killed, it was likely that Voldemort was forced to go back to Albania since he had no one to help him. Harry would keep an eye out for any sign that Voldemort was still after the Stone, but didn't think he would find any.
After Dumbledore forced them all to sing the school song, Harry, along with all the other first-years, followed Percy down the longest path between the Great Hall and Gryffindor Tower. Obviously, the pompous prefect had no idea of all the secret passages that existed in the castle.
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With a small pop, Harry's small group appeared elsewhere. The Boy-Who-Lived was relieved they'd gotten out of Malfoy Manor alive. Harry opened his eyes and looked around to see trees everywhere. They were obviously in the middle of a forest. Dobby had been apparating them to an Order member's house, but Harry had felt something go wrong in mid-apparition and tried to help. He decided to ask the elf what happened. He turned toward his little friend before hearing Hermione shriek. Wondering if she was suffering a side-affect from the torture she'd just endured at the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange, he turned toward her.
She was on the ground pointing her wand at Neville, who was bleeding badly from the Sectumsempra spell Draco had cast at his back. From the way he was still bleeding, and the frustration his best friend was showing, Harry could tell that the wound wasn't healing. How he yet again wished Snape - that murderer - hadn't managed to save Draco's life the year before when he'd used that spell on Malfoy.
That was when he heard a thump and looked to see Dobby lying on the ground with a knife blade protruding from the elf's heaving chest.
"Dobby," Harry cried as he watched a dark stain of blood spreading across his little friend's front. "No, don't die, don't die."
The elf's eyes found him, and his lips trembled with the effort to form words. "Harry…Potter." And then with a little shudder the elf became quite still, and his eyes were nothing more than great glassy orbs, sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see.
Before Harry could react, he heard Neville's weak voice saying, "I avenged my parents." He turned to see his former dorm-mate's eyes grow as lifeless as Dobby's. Hermione sniffed as tears flowed from her eyes. Harry understood that Neville had managed to kill Bellatrix, and that it actually was a good victory for their side, but all he could think about was the boy who was looking for his toad on the Hogwarts Express seven years before. And here Harry thought he'd run out of tears during the past year.
He'd never remember who'd initiated it, but before long, he was locked in an embrace with Hermione, each of them crying on the other's shoulder as they mourned the loss of their friends - not only these two, but the countless others. Neither actually said it, but they both realized that they were now truly alone in the world.
Eventually, they separated and Hermione pulled a knife out of the bottomless bag she'd managed to hold onto. "We're going to have to dig graves."
"I'll do it," said Harry, holding out his hand for the knife. "You need to recover." He held out one of the wands he'd managed to steal from Malfoy Manor. "Can you cast the privacy charms before you sit down, though?"
Neither of them knew how long it had taken Harry to dig the graves before Hermione, after having rested a few hours, levitated their two friends' earthly remains into them. They marked the graves and said a few words about Neville and Dobby before collapsing into each other's arms again.
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The next morning, Harry got up a few minutes before everyone else and quickly grabbed a robe and slippers. He was very tired. First, he'd had a hard time sleeping in the same room as Pettigrew, even with his curtains spelled shut. He had decided to leave Peter alone until Hermione was back so that they could choose the proper way to handle the situation, but he was finding it very difficult to do so. He wanted so much to torture and kill the rat.
Then, when he finally got to sleep, he'd had that nightmare, reliving one of his worst memories from the war. He supposed it was only natural that seeing his friends again would make him think about the day he and Hermione lost the last of their friends. Once more, he reaffirmed his vow not to let it happen this time.
He left Gryffindor Tower and walked to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and looked at his watch. It was 6:55 a.m. He walked back and forth in front of the painting thinking, "I need a room to train in," over and over again. The door appeared; he opened it and walked in, leaving the door open. While he was setting the alarm on his watch to go off at 7:55 a.m., the door shut.
He found the room had everything he wanted, from muggle exercise equipment like a treadmill to magical dueling dummies. He did some stretches to warm up, and started his training - first on the treadmill. Before the session was over, he was dueling two practice dummies that would move around and shoot the magical equivalent of paintballs at him while he dodged and fired without using shields. Harry's reasoning was that if he got hit by any spell a Death Eater shot at him, it would penetrate his shield and he'd probably be dead, so it wouldn't matter what the dummies used as long as he could tell when he got hit. His plan was to keep increasing the number of opponents he could face at the same time without getting hit.
When his watch alarm went off, he was very sweaty. He disillusioned himself, pulled his Time-Turner out from under his shirt and turned it back an hour. He waited for the door to open and watched himself walk in. He hurried out the door and shut it behind him. Once it was closed, he made himself visible, walked to Gryffindor Tower and took a shower.
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Harry kept up his routine every day and managed to `find' all his classes just in time so that he wouldn't appear to already know his way around the castle. However, he made sure he was never late to class. He allowed Hermione to be the first to learn a spell in most classes, but he was always second. However, he knew that he wouldn't be able to fool Hermione in Transfiguration when they were instructed to turn matches into needles. Since Hermione had seen him do it, there was no way he could convince her that he couldn't. Consequently, he was given five house points for successfully completing the assignment first. Hermione and Neville did it soon afterward, and Ron was able to change his match's color to silver. Ron was unhappy about this, despite the fact that no one else in class even achieved as much as him.
Harry had taken Hermione's suggestion of studying together, mainly to spend time with her, and soon Neville had joined them as well. However, Harry always had his homework done before the study sessions since he'd done it all during the summer. Hermione was happy to look it over anyway, and much to his chagrin, the first-year Hermione was still able to find errors in his assignments.
Despite being invited, Ron didn't want to study with them or anyone else. Instead, he spent most of his time playing chess with Seamus or Dean. Harry couldn't worry about that at the present moment, because he was preparing for Potions class by memorizing as many advanced potions as possible. Despite what Dumbledore had told him, Harry seriously considered killing Snape, but figured that he'd never get away with doing it at Hogwarts. He had another idea about how to handle the greasy git.
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"Harry Potter, our new - celebrity," the Potions master said softly in the middle of attendance, entertaining Draco and his goons. He soon went into his speech about bottling fame and brewing glory, although Harry knew that if Snape really could do that, he wouldn't be a schoolteacher. The so-called professor then stated that most of his students were dunderheads. The Boy-Who-Lived was more than prepared when suddenly the former Death Eater rounded on him. "Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"A sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death, sir," Harry answered in a neutral voice. Snape's ears turned pink.
"Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
"In the stomach of a goat, sir. A bezoar is a stone that will save people from most poisons."
Snape's normally pale face was now turning a shade of pink. He looked very upset. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" he growled.
"Nothing, sir," said Harry calmly. "They're the same plant, and it also goes by the name of aconite."
"Five points will be taken for your cheek, Potter!" Snape declared, causing all the Gryffindors to glare at him while the Slytherins laughed. "You're just as arrogant as your father was."
Harry had a very hard time not screaming what he was thinking. `It wasn't enough that you as good as killed my father, but you've got to insult him, too!'
The instructor then yelled, "Why aren't you all writing this down? Five points from Gryffindor, Longbottom, for not paying attention!"
Keeping his plan in mind, Harry was able to stay calm during class, keeping his eyes lowered to make sure Snape couldn't uses Legilimency on him, and even made his potion to cure boils correctly. Not that it mattered. Snape vanished it as soon as he turned it in, giving him a zero for the day.
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After class, Harry immediately went to the closest empty classroom and pulled three vials with caps out of his book bag and set them on a desk. He then pulled out his wand and held it to his temple. There were two different spells for extracting memories for a Pensieve. One removed it from your mind; the other simply copied it. Harry copied the memory of that class three times and capped the bottles. He put a label on one of the vials and put it in his bag. He then took out two sheets of parchment to write letters. One was addressed to Professor McGonagall, and the other to Headmaster Dumbledore. They both were the same.
Dear Headmaster Dumbledore/Professor McGonagall,
I have just come from my first Potions class, and would like to lodge a complaint against Professor Snape. He immediately singled me out, asking me three questions that are beyond first year material. Fortunately, I studied ahead and answered them correctly. However, he took 5 points from me for doing so. He then said that I was as arrogant as my father. At the end of class, for no reason whatsoever, he vanished my potion and gave me a zero for the day.
However, I'm not the only person that Professor Snape singled out and treated unfairly. He acted rudely toward all Gryffindors. I'm not sure how it is in the wizarding world, but in the muggle world, if one of my teachers acted like that, they'd be sacked for behaving in a nonprofessional manner. I did not come to Hogwarts to be insulted or to have my father insulted. If this continues, I'll have to consider transferring to another school. Perhaps Durmstrang would be more to my liking. My guardians don't care one way or another what school I go to, as long as I'm out of their hair.
I have enclosed a memory of the class. Last August, I made a second trip to Diagon Alley and bought a Pensieve and learned how to use it. It took a lot of practice, but I learned to copy my memories. It helps me to review my classes. If you don't have a Pensieve, I'd be more than glad to allow you to view the memories in mine.
Sincerely,
Harry Potter
P.S. I have also sent the same message and memory to
Professor McGonagall/Headmaster Dumbledore
Harry had made sure to remove all memories from his Pensieve the night before and put some new ones of different classes in it, just in case one of the professors inspected it. He'd given memories instead of thought-spheres because that spell was even more advanced than the one he was using, and no first-year should be able to perform it. When he was finished with the notes, Harry went to the owlry and tied the parcels to Hedwig's legs, instructing her to first go to McGonagall and then Dumbledore, just in case the headmaster would remove Minerva's message in his efforts to protect Snape. Not that he thought this would actually do any good; he just felt like he should give the Headmaster a chance to correct things on his own before Harry went over his head.
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Harry arrived at lunch a bit late, but still had time to eat a few sandwiches after he sat next to Hermione. "Hi," he said.
"What took you so long?" asked Hermione.
"I was putting together a complaint against Snape for McGonagall and Dumbledore." As if on cue, Hedwig flew into the hall, which was unusual for this meal, and went straight to the staff table.
Harry watched McGonagall take her package while Hermione said, "If I knew you were going to complain about his unfair treatment, I would've helped you."
Harry smiled at her. "I know, but I think it would be better if you complained alone. It would be better to have tons of complaints against him than just one. Besides, I sent a memory of the class, too. That should be enough proof."
"A memory?" she asked. Apparently, she hadn't read about Pensieves yet.
"Yes," he said, and then explained all about Pensieves, claiming that he'd bought his for studying purposes, and knowing that he'd have to show it to her that day.
Since Ron wasn't hanging out with him, Harry took Neville and Hermione to see Hagrid that afternoon. He realized that Ron had a lot of growing up to do before they'd really get along. The red-headed boy had the nerve to act like an eleven-year-old. He didn't hold it against Ron, but the fact was that they currently had very little in common. Hermione always was a bit mature for her age, and Neville was happy to have people to hang out with and wasn't obsessed with games. Harry always enjoyed games, especially Quidditch, but that wasn't the only thing he ever wanted to talk about.
When they arrived at Hagrid's hut, Harry immediately noticed the newspaper about Quirrel's failed attempt at robbing Gringotts and realized with shame that he'd spent more time milking his first friend for information than actually just enjoying his company, and vowed to change things this time around. He got Hagrid to talk about himself and his time at Hogwarts. The gamekeeper even talked a bit about both Harry and Neville's parents before they left.
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Harry wasn't surprised during dinner when both McGonagall and Dumbledore approached his table. They didn't look happy. Hermione, who had some idea what it was about, stopped eating and paid attention to them.
"Hello, professors," said Harry.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter," said the headmaster with a twinkle in his eye, "I feel that it is time for me to properly meet you. Would you mind coming to my office after dinner?"
"Certainly," he answered, "if one of you will show me where it is."
"I'll escort you," said Minerva.
"May I come, too?" asked Hermione.
Dumbledore gave her a grandfatherly smile. "I'm afraid not, Miss Granger. This is a private matter."
"It's about Harry's complaint against that vile man, isn't it?"
"Yes it is, but you should refer to Professor Snape with respect, Miss Granger," corrected their head of house.
"I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall, but Professor Snape doesn't deserve respect," she replied courteously. "He behaved in a completely nonprofessional manner."
Minerva sighed. "Yes, I know. I watched the memory. I believe that we should continue this discussion in private."
"I quite agree," said the headmaster. "If you'll finish eating…"
"I'm done," said Harry, putting down his fork.
"Me, too," said Hermione, mimicking his action.
"Very well. You may come too," said McGonagall. "Let's go."
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They walked out of the Great Hall and up to the seventh floor, until they came to a statue of a gargoyle. Harry couldn't hear the password Albus whispered to the guardian, but it moved aside and revealed a staircase. Once they were inside the office and had turned down the headmaster's offer of a lemon drop, Dumbledore said, "Mr. Potter, I'm sure that you realize it's not good policy to complain every time an instructor has a bad day."
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I'm sure you agree that it's not good policy to blatantly favor one house over another, nor to speak ill of the dead." Harry then paused for a moment as though thinking. "Did Snape know my father?"
"Yes, Professor Snape was acquainted with James," answered Dumbledore.
Minerva added, "They hated each other," earning a glare from the headmaster that lasted a fraction of a second, "and obviously Professor Snape wishes to carry on that hatred."
"I'm sure that it was just shock at how much you look like your father that threw our Potions Master off balance today," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes.
Hermione questioned, "Then how does it explain how much he blatantly favors Slytherins and docks points from Gryffindors for no reason at all? We'd all heard his reputation before class from the other Gryffindors, but I didn't believe he would be this bad." She then took a deep breath.
Harry asked, "How many times has Slytherin gotten the house cup since he's been working here?"
Minerva answered, "All but one year, when points were awarded at the leaving feast. Why do you ask?"
"Because he's been cheating in giving and taking House points," stated Harry calmly, "making the House Cup a joke." McGonagall was turning red, but her anger wasn't directed at Harry. He added, "I dare you to look up the records of the points he's taken and given since he's been working here."
"While that may be an interesting observation," Dumbledore interrupted, "the most important issue is that you expressed a desire to leave Hogwarts that we wish to dissuade you of."
"Are you sacking Snape?" asked Harry.
"I will speak with him," said Dumbledore in a patronizing manner.
"Then I'll still be considering it. I believe that there are magic schools where teachers don't insult students and their families. I believe I mentioned Durmstrang."
"I would strongly advise against going there," said Dumbledore sternly. "Even if you decide to leave Hogwarts, I beg you not to attend Durmstrang. The headmaster there is a former follower of Voldemort and teaches the dark arts."
"How could a former Death Eater be worse than Snape?" asked Harry, causing Dumbledore to pale for a moment as Minerva glared at the headmaster. Harry had a hard time not laughing at the irony of that question and wondered if he could get them to admit Snape had been a Death Eater as well. When he saw they were silent, he said, "I suppose I won't go there. Perhaps Beauxbatons would be better."
Hermione added, "That's the one in France. I seriously considered going there myself."
"Your parents would've wanted you to attend Hogwarts," said Dumbledore to the Boy-Who-Lived, trying to manipulate Harry's emotions.
"Would my father have wanted me to put up with Snape?" Harry countered. Getting no reply, Harry said, "I'll continue sending you both memories of Potions classes. If things haven't improved by the end of the month, I will take action. Professor McGonagall, I suggest you ask students from other years to share their memories of Snape. If that's all…"
"Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore, "I cannot allow you to be so insubordinate. I must take one point from Gryffindor."
"It doesn't make any difference anyway," said Harry as he turned around.
"You may leave, Miss Granger," said McGonagall's voice, letting Harry know his friend had waited to be dismissed.
She said, "While I admit that Harry was a bit…disrespectful, I agree with everything he said. Good day."
Harry couldn't help but smile as he started walking, with her right behind him. Once they were away from the office, she asked, "What did you mean by `take action?' What can you do?"
He signaled for her to follow him into an empty classroom. Once he shut the door, he asked, "How would the public feel if they knew the kind of treatment Snape is giving the Boy-Who-Lived?"
"They'd be furious," she said pensively.
"That he was publicly insulting the late James Potter, a hero of the war?"
"Even angrier," replied Hermione.
"At the end of the month, I'm going to send my memories, along with a letter all about Snape, to the Daily Prophet." He then extracted his memory of the meeting he'd just left for his collection.
She grinned. "That's a great way to use your fame! Perhaps we can collect more memories from students in other years. We can demand a proper Potions teacher."
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Please review. Thank you to those who have.
Harry did have to show Hermione his Pensieve.
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