Handshake-Harry Potter

Big Black Dog and Grumpy Old Git | Harry

HARRY'S POV

It was the next morning. I was sitting with Ron at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast. Last night was amazing. There was a ton of food, the most I've ever seen at once in my whole life. There was everything, roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, bacon, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and mint humbugs for whatever reason. And even better, I could eat any of it, as much as I wanted. 

There were ghosts, too! We met Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor. Well, is name is really Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington, but no one calls him that. He showed us where he had almost been beheaded- it was disturbing.

After dinner there was dessert, which was awesome. There was everything, every sort of dessert you could possibly think of. The best.

We met a few other Gryffindors our year, like Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, the boy who lost the toad, and Dean Thomas. They share a dorm with me and Ron. They were cool people.

Something strange had happened last night though. I was surveying the teachers at the High Table. Professor Quirrell was talking to a greasy haired teacher, and when that greasy haired teacher (Snape, Percy had said) looked me in the eye, my scar burned. This hot pain shot through my head. It was gone quickly, but I'm sure it was because Professor Snape looked at me.

Dumbledore had warned everyone that the third-floor corridor was off limits to everyone unless they wished to die a "very painful death". And according to Percy, he might even be serious about that. 

And before bed, he made us sing the school which was awful. Everyone was singing a different tune and different key, sometimes off-key, and everyone ended at different times. Fred and George had finished last with a very slow funeral march. And Dumbledore appeared as if he had enjoyed it.

The entrance to the Gryffindor common room was a portrait of a fat woman in a pink dress. Since all the paintings could talk, to get in we just had to tell the Fat Lady the password (Caput Draconis!) and her frame would swing right off the wall like a door, revealing a round hole in the wall, leading to a cosy round room with squashy armchairs. It was a welcoming place, maybe my favourite room so far.

But today, wherever I went, I was followed by whispers. 

"There, look." 

"Where?" 

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?" 

"Did you see his scar?"

Everywhere I went, people would whisper and stare, point and double take. It was like I was some kind of celebrity to them.

"You kinda are though," Ron had told me.

I also found the staircase rather annoying, as they were often changing. The doors were no better. 

I also didn't like Filch, the caretaker, or Mrs. Norris, his cat. Both equally mean, and equally scary to get caught doing wrong by.

In our first Charms lesson, Professor Flitwick the little teacher, squeaked when he got to my nae during attendance during register and fell off his stack of books, toppling out of sight. 

Professor McGonagall taught us how to turn matchsticks into needles, but the only one to succeed was Hermione. Ron rolled his eyes when McGonagall had praised her.

We were all excited for Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell wasn't really exciting. He told us that he had gotten his turban from an African Prince because he got rid of a troublesome zombie, but when Seamus asked how he did it, he went pink and started talking about the weather. The twins said the turban was full of garlic, to ward off vampires.