The Legend of Deltarune

Chapter 1: Potions Class

Harry Potter, of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, was proud to say that he was not normal in the slightest, thank you very much. He was the last person you'd expect to be involved in anything boring or mundane because he just simply didn't hold with such solemnity.

It was not every eleven-year-old who got a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a magical school in Scotland, and it was certainly not every eleven-year-old who was able to defeat the darkest wizard of all time as an infant.

On September 1st, 1991, Harry met his very best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, onboard the Hogwarts Express in their very first year at school. He was thankful that they all got sorted into the House of Gryffindor, which was where his parents had been sorted.

During his school year, he discovered that he was famous in the world of magic. As a baby, he had defeated a Dark Wizard named Voldemort, leaving him with nothing but a scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. When Harry first heard that story, he found it unbelievable. He had been told all his life that his parents were killed in a car accident — at least that was what his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon Dursley had told him.

Harry was outraged when he discovered the truth. Luckily, he had a godfather in the magic world called Sirius Black, whom he soon moved in with. He was a funny man who happily accepted Harry with open arms. ("I have tried finding you all these years, thank Merlin that you're alive!"). The Dursleys were never very kind to Harry — they made him do all household chores, made him sleep in a cupboard under the staircase, and often didn't feed him nearly enough food — so he was glad to enter a home where he felt welcome and loved.

Flash forward, to the year 1997. Now he was seventeen years old, in his seventh and final year and ready for his exams. It was safe to say that his time at school had been relatively uneventful — or, well, as uneventful as any magical school could be. The most exciting thing that happened was probably when Hogwarts hosted the Triwizard Tournament, where Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff some years older than Harry, won back in the school year of '94-95.

But that didn't mean that his years at Hogwarts had been smooth sailing, oh no. Despite the calm he had experienced throughout his time at school, there was Draco Malfoy, a boy from the House of Slytherin.

Draco was, in Harry's opinion, an absolute nuisance. He was a spoiled boy, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, who always received whatever he pointed at (often gift-wrapped). And the worst part was, everything he did seemed to be a revenge plot against Harry. They competed in every area, including Quidditch, where they both played the position of Seeker.

Harry suspected their rivalry started as soon as he had declined Draco's friendship for badmouthing Ron. However, even when thirteen-year-old Harry tried to apologise for rejecting him, Draco was petty as ever. There was absolutely no way that the two of them could ever be real friends. They were simply too different.

What made the situation worse was that the Gryffindors and Slytherins had always had Potions Class together; a subject where Draco excelled and Harry underperformed. Harry hated the way Draco would always rub it in his face that he was better. Of course, he was better: the teacher was his godfather!

So of course, today's class was no exception.

It wasn't exactly any benefit that Harry had been stopped by to visit Hagrid, the school's friendly half-giant, during the break. What started as a quick cup of tea turned into a half-hour discussion of Hagrid's new baby Hippogriff. Harry only realised that he was late for class when he heard the bell, and Hagrid's hut was as far from Potions Class as one could be.

Harry was nearly twenty minutes late when he entered the classroom.

"Sorry I'm late Professor Snape," Harry said softly as he burst into class.