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Harry was so busy the first week that he barely had time to think about his conversation with Severus and his medical checkup. Thinking about it caused his anxiety to flare, so he thought about school and his new friends instead.

Since becoming a Slytherin, he had gained practically all the first years as friends. On the first day, Draco, Blaise, and Theodore Nott dragged him into the bathroom at six thirty in the morning, where Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, and Daphne Greengrass were waiting for him. The girls proceeded to do the monumental task of taming Harry's raven locks, transforming the messy hair into soft curls. Harry had no idea how or why all the first years had practically adopted him, but he wasn't complaining. They were a good buffer against Ron Weasley's insults. However, he knew that once the Slytherins discovered how broken he was, they would cast him aside.

He would savor the feeling of friendship until then.

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Classes were fascinating, difficult, and magical (pun intended). Harry was delighted that there was a class at midnight, where they would study the stars, planets, and constellations. Not only was that a favorite subject, but it was the time when he was most awake. Another favorite subject was Herbology, where it took gardening to an adventurous and dangerous level. There were plants that would bite, sting, or even, if Harry had heard the rumor right, scream so loudly that it would either knock people out or kill them. (They wouldn't work with Mandrakes, however, until third year.)

Harry had been looking forward to History of Magic, but the subject was taught by a ghost that put the students to sleep with his droning lectures. Blaise, when he saw how disappointed Harry was, offered to help Him self-study. Harry agreed eagerly.

The hardest subject had been Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall had started her class with a long, stern lecture about how this magic was the most difficult, and had to be taken seriously. She then turned her desk into a pig and back. Harry had been excited until he discovered that they wouldn't be doing that until seventh year. Instead, McGonagall had given each of them a small stick of hay. It had taken Harry several tries to turn the piece of hay into a needle. The only other people who had succeeded were two Ravenclaws and Draco.

The Charms Professor, Flitwick, was a small, excitable man with beady eyes. In order to see over his desk, he had to stand on a stack of books which were placed atop his chair. When he came to Harry's name on the roll, he squeaked and tumbled to the floor. Harry blushed and hid his face, causing several of the girls to coo and Draco to snicker. Blaise kicked the blonde's leg, and Harry giggled.

A lot of Gryffindors were excited for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but an older Slytherin privately told them that Quirrell was a coward who stammered too hard to be understood. Blaise promised Harry that they could self-study this subject as well.

Finally, Friday came, and Harry's anxiety came back full force. He would have to answer Severus' question about his home life. But first, he had to endure a class with the Gryffindors -- and Ronald Weasley.

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Severus swept into the classroom and, immediately, the Slytherins silenced, causing the Gryffindors to stop talking as well. He walked over to his desk and turned to face his class.

"Before I take roll," he said firmly, "there are several things you need to know. This class is unlike any other. In other classes, one wrong wand movement will cause very little damage. But in this class, the smallest mistake -- slicing an ingredient instead of dicing it, adding just a tad more or less of an ingredient, heating the cauldron up a little too much or just not enough -- could cause the most painful death, injury, or illness to yourself or your potions partner.

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