The real Herry Potter

Harry, Neville, and Hermione settled into the Great Hall for breakfast, the warm morning sunlight streaming through the enchanted ceiling that simulated the weather outside. The vast room was abuzz with the chatter of students, a lively symphony of greetings, laughter, and the clinking of cutlery. The ceiling, a mirror of the clear blue sky outside, added a touch of magic to the already enchanting atmosphere.

As Harry and his friends filled their plates with a hearty breakfast, he noticed Ron Weasley sitting at the Gryffindor table. Ron was animatedly chatting with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, two other Gryffindors who had already made their way into the group. Harry was pleased to see Ron fitting in so well, making other friends.

The Gryffindor table was a lively place, filled with the clamor of older students catching up on their summer adventures and discussing their plans for the new school year. Harry found the conversations fascinating, catching snippets about last year's Quidditch matches, upcoming exams, and various Hogwarts traditions. The sense of camaraderie among the Gryffindors was palpable, and Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement about being part of this vibrant community.

As Harry took in his surroundings, he marveled at the enchanted ceiling. It was always a wonder how it could mimic the weather so perfectly, reflecting the brilliance of the morning sun and adding to the magical ambiance of the Hall. He sighed contentedly, appreciating the grandiosity of Hogwarts and the sense of belonging he felt.

He spotted Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones at the Hufflepuff table. They had arrived with a group of first-year Hufflepuffs and were waving enthusiastically at Harry. Not one to shy away from making friends, Harry waved back with a bright smile. Despite being sorted into different houses, he was eager to maintain and build friendships with students from all four houses.

The Great Hall was bustling with the usual morning activity. Students chatted animatedly over their breakfast, their voices mingling with the clinking of cutlery and the soft hum of conversations. As Harry dug into his fruit salad and juice, a sudden commotion caught his attention.

Hundreds of owls began to stream into the Hall, their wings creating a flurry of movement and excitement. Each owl carried parcels, newspapers, and various other items, which they began depositing in front of students and teachers alike. The sight was nothing short of magical. The owls flapped and hooted, delivering their cargo with precision and grace. It was as if the Great Hall had transformed into a bustling post office for a moment.

Hedwig, Harry's own snowy owl, arrived amid the flurry of feathers and talons. She landed deftly beside Harry, who greeted her with a warm smile. Hedwig had always been reliable, and it was comforting to see her here, bringing a touch of familiarity to the lively breakfast scene.

Harry gently unfastened the letter from Hedwig's leg. As he did, Hedwig, clearly hungry from her travels, started pecking at the remnants of Harry's breakfast on his plate. Harry chuckled at the sight, not minding her unconventional breakfast choice. He unfolded the letter and began to read.

The letter was from Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. The familiar handwriting brought a smile to Harry's face as he read through the warm congratulations on his sorting into Gryffindor. Sirius's message was filled with pride and encouragement, but he also shared news of his upcoming plans. Sirius and Remus were heading to America for a while, embarking on an adventure of their own. He asked Harry not to write to them during this period, as the long journeys would be too taxing for Hedwig. Instead, Sirius promised they would reach out once they were back, and then they could keep in touch more frequently.

Harry finished the letter and looked around, spotting Hermione Granger at the nearby table. She was busy finishing her breakfast, seemingly lost in thought. Harry decided to take the opportunity to ask her about a something.

"Hermione," Harry said, catching her attention, "did you send a letter to your parents about your experience at Hogwarts?"

Hermione looked up, a hint of surprise on her face. "Oh, I completely forgot about that. Maybe I can do it later."

Harry's eyes lit up with an idea. "You know, the school has an owlery where you can send letters to your parents but Hedwig wouldn't mind making a stop at your house, if you'd like."

Hermione's face brightened with relief. "That's very kind of you, Harry. I'd appreciate that."

She quickly began gathering her things, realizing that she had come to breakfast with the intention of going straight to her first class. Hermione cleared her table with efficiency and pulled out a parchment and a quill from her bag. She started drafting a detailed letter to her parents, her handwriting neat and precise.

Harry watched with amusement as Hermione concentrated on her letter. Her dedication to her task was evident, and he could see her passion for sharing her experiences with her family. Once she finished, she folded the letter carefully and sealed it with a wax stamp from her personal kit.

Harry took the letter and attached it to Hedwig's leg. He glanced at Hedwig, who seemed to look back at him with a knowing expression, as if saying, "I've done this before." Despite her usual patience, Hedwig's eyes conveyed a hint of skepticism when Harry suggested asking Hermione for her full address.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry said with a grin. "Just make sure Hedwig know where to go."

Hedwig gave a soft hoot, as if in resignation, and took off with the letter. Her flight was smooth and graceful, and she quickly disappeared from view as she headed towards her destination.

Harry and Hermione resumed their breakfast, their conversation light and filled with anticipation for the day ahead. Hermione, having completed her task, was now ready to dive into her classes. The morning had been filled with small but meaningful moments, and Harry appreciated the camaraderie and kindness that made his first days at Hogwarts so memorable.

The chatter at the tables continued as Harry enjoyed his breakfast, but the excitement grew when Professor McGonagall made her entrance. She walked gracefully down the hall, her stern demeanor softened by the warmth of the morning. Accompanied by a few prefects, she began distributing timetables to the first years.

Harry received his timetable with a sense of anticipation. He scanned it quickly: Potions with Professor Snape, Charms with Professor Flitwick, and History of Magic with Professor Binns. The thought of diving into these subjects filled him with eagerness. Potions, in particular, stood out to him. Harry had always had a keen interest in the subject, inspired by the intricate mixtures and magical properties of potion-making.

However, his enthusiasm was tempered by the knowledge that Professor Snape would be his Potions instructor. Harry had heard enough about Snape's reputation to know that the professor harbored a deep-seated grudge, likely due to the various pranks his father and godfather had pulled during their own time at Hogwarts. Despite this, Harry hoped for the best. He was determined to prove himself and excel in his classes, no matter the challenges he might face.

As Harry and his friends finished their breakfast, they talked about their schedules and classes. Hermione, ever the keen student, was already discussing her excitement about Charms and History of Magic. Neville, still a bit apprehensive about the upcoming year, found comfort in the company of his friends and the shared anticipation for the adventures that lay ahead.

The breakfast came to a close, and the students began to filter out of the Great Hall, heading towards their first classes. Harry, Neville, and Hermione walked together, chatting about their expectations and plans for the day. As they made their way through the bustling corridors of Hogwarts, Harry felt a renewed sense of determination.

Harry and his friends trudged through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, their footsteps echoing off the cold, stone walls of the dungeons. The air was damp and musty, the smell of earth and mildew mixing with the faint aroma of potions and herbs. Navigating through the labyrinthine corridors had been a challenge, but the makeshift map provided by their prefect had guided them to their destination. After a few wrong turns and some helpful directions from older students, they finally arrived at the Potions classroom.

The classroom was dimly lit, with a large blackboard at the front and rows of sturdy wooden desks set up in a semi-circle. The walls were lined with shelves filled with bottles, jars, and containers of all shapes and sizes, each holding various magical ingredients. A faint hiss and bubble emanated from a cauldron in one corner, adding to the room's mysterious atmosphere.

Harry and Neville chose seats near the front, eager to get a good view of the professor and his demonstrations. Hermione, on the other hand, settled next to Lavender Brown, a cheerful Gryffindor girl who greeted her with a friendly smile. The room filled up quickly as more students poured in, and soon the distinctive green and silver robes of the Slytherins began to appear.

Harry couldn't help but notice Draco Malfoy and his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, making their way to the back of the room. Malfoy's eyes flicked over to Harry, a look of disdain crossing his face. The rejection of his friendship had clearly stung, and Malfoy's expression conveyed a mixture of surprise and irritation. Harry had not only refused to be swayed by Malfoy's charm but had also stood up to him in front of everyone. To Malfoy, this was an unforgivable slight.

The Slytherin table filled up, and Malfoy's gaze remained fixed on Harry. He could see that Harry was different—strong and muscular, exuding a quiet confidence that was impossible to ignore. Malfoy knew that making an enemy out of Harry Potter was a dangerous game. Not only did Harry have the weight of his name and influence, but he also seemed capable of handling himself in a confrontation. Crabbe and Goyle, usually eager to intimidate, looked nervous as they hovered near Malfoy, clearly uncomfortable with the prospect of a potential clash with Harry Potter.

To divert attention from himself, Malfoy turned his attention to Ron Weasley, who was seated a few rows behind Harry. Malfoy saw Ron's insecurities and short temper as a prime target for his jabs. The two soon began to argue heatedly, with Malfoy taunting Ron about his family's finances and his perceived lack of worth. Ron's face flushed with anger, and the tension between them escalated quickly.

The argument was abruptly interrupted by the sudden opening of the classroom door. Professor Severus Snape swept into the room, his black cloak billowing behind him like a dark storm cloud. His cold, piercing gaze scanned the room as he took his place at the front of the class. The room fell silent in an instant, the students straightening in their seats under his intimidating presence.

Professor Snape's voice was sharp and commanding as he began to address the class. "Welcome to your first Potions lesson. I am Professor Snape, and you will find that I have very little patience for mistakes and foolishness. This class is not for those who lack discipline or intelligence. It requires focus, precision, and respect for the craft."

Snape's gaze swept over the students, lingering for a moment on Harry. His expression was inscrutable, but there was a clear, unsettling tension between them. Harry met Snape's gaze with a steady look of his own.

As Snape began the first round of questions, Harry's attention sharpened. Snape's questions were designed to test their basic understanding of potion-making principles, and he started with Harry.

"What is the primary purpose of the Draught of Living Death?" Snape demanded, his voice cutting through the silence.

Harry raised his hand, but Hermione's hand shot up faster. Snape's eyes narrowed, but he gestured for Harry to answer. "The Draught of Living Death is a powerful sleeping potion that causes the drinker to fall into a deathlike slumber," Harry answered confidently.

"Correct," Snape replied, his tone begrudgingly approving. He moved on to his next question. "What are the key ingredients in a Veritaserum?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, but Hermione's hand was already up, and she looked as though she was about to speak. However, Harry was determined to answer himself. "The key ingredients in Veritaserum are powdered unicorn horn, asphodel, and a few drops of wormwood," Harry stated.

Snape's expression remained unchanging, but a hint of surprise flickered in his eyes. "Very well," he said curtly. "Lastly, what is the effect of a bezoar on a poisoned person?"

Harry answered without hesitation. "A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat. It can counteract most poisons if ingested within a reasonable time frame."

Snape nodded, though his face remained impassive. "Excellent," he said, before turning his attention to the rest of the class.

As the students settled into the rhythm of the lesson, Harry could sense the lingering tension from the earlier confrontation. Hermione, who had been eager to contribute, looked slightly disappointed but understood the importance of letting Harry handle his own challenges. Ron, still fuming from his argument with Malfoy, tried to focus on the lesson, though his annoyance was evident.

The rest of the class passed with Snape's strict guidance and a series of detailed instructions on potion-making. Harry found himself both fascinated and bored of the subject same time. Potions were challenging and required great skill, but he was brewing potions last year. He was determined to master them despite the intimidating presence of Professor Snape.

As the bell rang to signal the end of the class, students began to file out of the dungeon classroom. The tension between the Gryffindors and Slytherins lingered in the air, but Harry was resolute. The day had been full of challenges, but he was ready to face whatever came next.