Next Morning
Alex POV
I woke up in my bed with a yawn early. I looked at the wall clock and saw that I had woken at the right time, thanks to my usual nightmares. I looked at the other beds — they were sleeping like logs, no nightmares, no worries. I slowly got up, gathered what I needed, and went to get ready for the day.
After dressing up, I slipped out into the common room. The schedule was already posted on the notice board. I read it, went back to pack my bag for the day, and returned to find the common room slowly filling.
Percy was sitting alongside a few older students. Hermione was sitting with a book in her lap, alongside Lavender and Parvati, who were talking and occasionally adding to the conversation. Hermione looked up and saw me coming, and she introduced me and the two girls — who were her dormitory-mates — to each other. We talked until Percy stood and collected the first-years.
Percy led us to the Great Hall where breakfast was already served and told us that he would start the tour after everybody had eaten. During this time some more first-years joined us, including Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom, who had come running and were visibly out of breath. After everybody had eaten, Percy took us on the tour around Hogwarts.
The tour of the castle took most of the morning. Percy was visibly excited and had the enthusiasm of someone who was doing his dream job. While guiding us through the corridors, he would point out and tell us about towers, the library, the Quidditch pitch, the owlery, and more. We met Professor Sprout while passing by the greenhouse. We greeted her and she greeted us back and gave her best wishes for our first day.
We passed by the Black Lake, in which we could see a few merpeople watching us. While taking us back to the castle, Percy pointed toward the Forbidden Forest and gave us warnings.
Percy left us at the entrance of the Transfiguration classroom. Most of the members of our group were very excited to start learning magic, and also because it was the class taught by their Head of House — they expected to get benefits because of this. How wrong they were, they would find out in a few moments.
The classroom had multiple rows of wooden desks, spell-related bookshelves, and sufficient space in the centre stage for the professor to teach. There were also large windows from which the sun's rays were coming, making the environment of the classroom quiet, warm, and pleasant.
The Slytherin first-years were already sitting on one side of the room, some talking and some reading books. The one thing that looked out of place was the cat sitting on the teacher's desk — unlike normal cats, it exuded a distinct look of dignity and was watching the arriving students. It also had circular markings around its eyes, but nobody seemed to notice them.
Some students tried to call it, but it did not seem to respond. Seeing this, everybody decided to ignore it and we started sitting. Hermione sat on the front seat nearest to the podium and I sat next to her along with Parvati. Lavender, Neville, and Dean Thomas sat behind us.
Slowly, minutes passed and a few more students entered the classroom. Soon the bell rang and it was time to start the class. But at this exact moment, two boys came running inside and stopped in front of the stage. On seeing that the professor had not yet arrived, they both took a breath of relief.
Immediately, the cat that had been sitting on the desk jumped and turned into Professor McGonagall. Seeing this, almost all students were left wide-eyed, and Ron and Harry were startled.
"Mr Weasley." Her voice was perfectly level. "Mr Potter. You appear to have difficulty reading the time. Perhaps I should transfigure you both into clocks."
"We were lost, Professor," Ron offered. "Couldn't find the classroom."
"Then perhaps a map is more suitable. Now — do you need a map to find a seat?"
Harry and Ron immediately sat on the front seats, as they were mostly empty and nearest to them. The Slytherins were snickering at the duo's antics.
Professor McGonagall introduced herself and turned her desk into a pig and back. This immediately attracted everybody's attention. She continued to tell about Transfiguration, its principles, limitations, dangers, and other theoretical knowledge. For almost an hour the class continued on theory.
Then it was time for the practical part. Professor McGonagall handed each of us a matchstick and gave us the task of turning it into a needle. She taught us the spell and guided us. The quiet room filled with sounds of incantations and wand-waving. She moved around, helping students by pointing out and correcting their mistakes.
I had done harder Transfigurations with ease, so this was not of any difficulty for me. I chanted the incantation, waved the wand, and the matchstick turned into a needle.
This immediately attracted the attention of nearby students as Parvati asked me.
"Alex, how did you do it?"
Everybody nearby was looking at me, and these reactions immediately attracted the attention of Professor McGonagall. She appeared at my desk and looked at the needle.
"Did you succeed, Mr Mercer?" she asked, confirming that this was the matchstick she had given me.
"Yes, Professor."
She looked at me with a smile and after a moment said:
"Excellent work." She turned to address the class. "Five points to Gryffindor."
She moved back and continued walking around the classroom. Hermione also turned back toward her matchstick, looking more focused than before, although I could see from my side that she seemed to be secretly listening. Parvati and Neville were asking for help and tips. Others were also listening, including Harry and Ron.
The Slytherins who had been laughing just moments ago at Harry and Ron now had soured expressions — especially Draco, his two large subordinates, and a girl who I assumed was Pansy Parkinson.
The second hour passed. Hermione's matchstick had turned shiny and pointy but was still a matchstick, which was the second-best result in the room. Other than her, there were no significant results from any other student.
Lunch — Great Hall
3rd Person POV
As the first class of the term ended, it was time for lunch. Students started pouring into the Great Hall as the food was served. The long tables that had been empty were soon filled with students, and the quiet hall was filled with the sounds of conversations and occasional excited shrieks, angry shouts, and loud booms.
Alex came into the Great Hall along with the other first-years. He sat at the Gryffindor table along with Harry, Ron, and the other Gryffindor first-years. The food was decent in taste and due to ample variety there was no lack of any daily nutrients.
As they were eating, owls started flying into the hall, dropping parcels and letters, and occasionally their feathers and droppings.
At the head of the staff table, Albus Dumbledore ate his lunch unhurried. His eyes moved as they usually did, taking in the view of the growing children. They soon stopped on the group of Gryffindor first-years — or more precisely, on Alex Mercer — as he remembered the discussion of the previous night.
Previous Night
Headmaster's Office
In the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore sat thinking deeply. He had an uncharacteristic frown, but his concentration was broken as someone entered the office.
Severus Snape walked in, robes fluttering like a bat. He too had a frown, but unlike Dumbledore's, it was just as always — permanently stuck on his face.
"Dum—"
Before Snape could say anything, Dumbledore got up.
"I know why you are here, Severus," he said.
Both Dumbledore and Snape looked at the Sorting Hat sitting on the shelf. Dumbledore moved and brought the Sorting Hat to his table. The hat, sensing the movement, had already woken up and greeted them.
"Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape. I don't think it has been a full day since the sorting ceremony. So what do you want from me?" asked the hat in a curious and respectful tone.
"I have a few questions about the student Alex Mercer that you sorted today," said Dumbledore.
"Of course, Headmaster, but you should know that what I can tell you is limited."
"I know. I would like to know why the Ironbound Rules appeared," said Dumbledore, as Snape continued listening.
"The book appears when a rule in it is invoked, challenged, or questioned. Due to Hogwarts's reputation and good facilities, it has almost never needed to appear in the past few centuries. At the time when Hogwarts was recently established, the book was almost always present."
"I see. Then what can you tell me about Alex himself? He has been in Azkaban, so it would be better to know so we can help him more effectively."
"About Alex I can tell you that he has been in Azkaban for four years. He is a talented individual. As for helping him, I cannot say much — only do not treat him like Tom Riddle. In fact, you should not treat any student like Tom Riddle. You are—"
The words of the Sorting Hat were cut off by Dumbledore. "I understand. But the me from then was different. The time was also different. We were at war and, as the one leading my side, I had to be cautious and vigilant at all times and look at everybody with scrutiny. But do not worry — times have changed, and so have I."
There was a silence for a moment before Snape spoke.
"Why Gryffindor? And why announce his qualities? My understanding is that the latter is prohibited."
"Most students have one house trait prominent and the others lesser," the hat said. "Some — like Professor Snape — have two or three prominent traits, and in those cases the most prominent determines the house, or the student is given a choice if the traits are genuinely equal." It paused. "And then there are anomalies — students whose traits across all four houses are equally prominent. The Headmaster is one such anomaly. Alex Mercer is another. In such cases, I make a recommendation based on the most prominent trait, but the student may disagree. Alex requested Gryffindor. I agreed it was appropriate."
"And the announcement?"
"Is prohibited without the student's explicit permission. Alex gave that permission. He was aware that some people would see him as an Azkaban criminal rather than an Azkaban victim."
"You can go and sleep now. Good night," said Dumbledore as he put the Sorting Hat back on the shelf.
"Good night, Headmaster and Professor," said the hat as it went limp once again.
Dumbledore turned toward Snape, who was deep in thought. Snape looked at him and Dumbledore said:
"Severus, that should satiate your curiosity and I believe there is nothing to worry about." Dumbledore paused before continuing. "I have to ask you to keep an eye on Quirrell. He was behaving suspiciously today."
"I will keep an eye on him. It is as if his personality has changed drastically all of a sudden," said Snape, nodding.
"If there is nothing else, then I shall take my leave. Good night, Dumbledore," said Snape as he turned around and walked out.
The door closed. Dumbledore sat alone in his office for a long time afterward, thinking about the boy who had deep distrust — and a man whose personality had changed drastically after becoming the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
Back to Present
The time for lunch was over and now it was time for another class. Students started picking up their bags and standing up to leave. Slowly, both the students and the professors left the hall.
The corridors were filled with students walking to their classes. Among them were the Gryffindor first-years, but unlike other students who had neutral or even excited expressions, many of them had expressions of worry and fear — except a few, such as Hermione and Alex.
It was because it was time for their first Potions class, and their seniors had made sure to prepare them for this. They had told them about the borderline abusive teachings of the worst-rated professor of Hogwarts — Professor Snape — a serious man with a hooked nose and a constant frown who had a particular disdain and hatred for Gryffindor students.
Alex POV
I could see that quite a few members of our group had less-than-excited expressions. We walked down the stairs to the dungeons for our first Potions class.
I did not have much to worry about in terms of classroom knowledge, as I had already completed almost all of the first-year syllabus. But the real bother was the person teaching the class. Even if he did not have any particular opinion of me, he would still cause me problems just because I was Gryffindor, which, truthfully speaking, would get annoying.
I was thinking this as we entered the classroom. The first thing I noticed was the cold — it was quite cold in here, and the air was also a little damp. The walls were covered in glass jars containing different specimens and ingredients, which provided an eerie and mysterious feeling. The seats were tightly packed, giving a claustrophobic vibe. And in the corner, the gargoyle pouring water from its mouth did not bring up any good feelings or ease the students. I had heard rumours that these dungeons were built as torture chambers and isolated prison cells which were later turned into classrooms — though the last part was most definitely a lie, as they still looked not much better.
The second thing I noticed was that the Slytherins were somehow once again already sitting in the class, even though they had been in the Great Hall when all students were eating lunch. They also seemed to have divided the seats in two — one side for Slytherin and the other for Gryffindor.
The Gryffindor students sat down. I sat with Neville, who had an empty seat beside him. Not a minute had passed when the door opened and a man stormed in, stood on the stage, and started talking.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. 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 quality — 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."
He said this in a tone that told us he did not expect any of us to be any use at potion-making.
I could see his eyes moving and settling on Harry, who was sitting beside me and writing down everything that Snape said — specifically the parts about brewing glory and putting a stopper in death.
"Of course, some of you may possess abilities so formidable that you do not feel the need to pay attention in class," Snape said, as Harry finally looked up, meeting his gaze.
"Mr Potter, our new celebrity." Hearing this, Harry stood up, keeping his gaze on Snape. Snape continued in a slow, mocking voice and with fake appreciation as he asked Harry questions that Harry could not answer — and probably felt joy in humiliating a boy with the same face as his old bully.
After Snape had humiliated Harry enough, deducted a few points, and decided it was time to start the class, he turned and moved to the board and started writing and explaining Potions theory. On the other side, Hermione had put her hand down — it had been up the entire time Snape was questioning Harry. Ron too was muttering something, irritated by Snape's behaviour, while Harry glared at Snape's back.
The next part of the class continued quite peacefully, until it was time to actually make potions. At first everybody was quiet, trying to follow Snape's instructions. Then Snape started moving.
Snape had a specific quality about him. Anywhere he went, students stiffened and would make mistakes they would not otherwise have made. His jabs and insults to the students made it worse. The only saving grace for the Slytherin students was that he never deducted their points — but the insults remained just as sharp.
I had been paired with Parvati, who turned out to be quite proficient at potion-making. When asked, she told me that her father managed the Patil family's potions business in Europe, and that her father and mother had taught her and her twin sister potions from a very young age.
We were about to continue talking when we heard footsteps approaching. We immediately stopped talking and focused on our task. Soon Snape was standing behind us.
"Hmm." He leaned forward, assessing our brew. "It seems there are some wizards among the trolls. The potion is looking fine." A second had not passed before his tone shifted from neutral and assessing to sharp and full of disdain. "But that does not mean you can do your chit-chat while making potions. Two points from Gryffindor."
His dislike for our casual behaviour was visible.
Before he could continue, a loud shriek came from across the room and Snape moved toward Neville, gaining another chance to insult and deduct points.
I offered Parvati a chocolate to soothe her after losing the point. We slowly continued working on the potion. The class came to an end as all of us labelled our potions and submitted them to Snape.
Everybody was leaving fast, like they were running from a plague. And they were not wrong — who knew, if they stayed, how many more points Snape might deduct.
Harry and Ron were particularly swift and visibly agitated, while Hermione felt sorrow for the lost points and the fact that she had not scored any in this class. It was only their first class, but the students understood why Snape was so hated.
We met Neville, who was coming back from the infirmary. His burns had disappeared but he seemed more deflated than ever before. We tried to cheer him up a little as we walked back to the Gryffindor common room. Since it was the first day, there were only two classes and the rest of the day was basically free.
Hermione was the first to leave us, heading to the library to work and study. Then slowly everybody started leaving for their own things, in groups of two or three. I changed my clothes and played Wizard Chess with Harry and Ron — Harry was easy to beat, but Ron was no average player. Still, I did not give him an easy victory. After that, I too picked up my bag and left for the library.
But my steps changed direction midway down the corridor as I turned and started climbing the stairs. Slowly and cautiously, I moved and came to the left corridor of the seventh floor. I stopped opposite the tapestry depicting the attempt of Barnabas the Barmy to teach trolls ballet. I walked past the wall three times, wishing for a room to practise magic.
Soon a door appeared. I entered and closed it. The room had a large open space, well-lit, with practice dummies and equipment on one side and a couch and book cabinet on the other.
But before I could start practising anything or reveal my secrets here, I had to do something first.
I took my wand in my hand, gripping it tightly, and waved it with a sharp motion as I said the incantation of the most dangerous fire-manifesting curse — Fiendfyre.
"Ignis Edax Bestiarum Furiosa.