Trying | Hogwarts OC student

chapter 1

The New Arrival

The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as students gathered for the evening feast. Whispers and curious glances were exchanged, all focused on the lone figure standing awkwardly at the entrance. Alistair Montrose, the new transfer student from Durmstrang, had finally arrived at Hogwarts.

Professor McGonagall led Alistair to the front of the hall, where the Sorting Hat awaited. The tall, lanky boy with unruly black hair and sharp blue eyes looked out over the sea of curious faces. He gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk before sitting on the stool. The hat barely touched his head before it shouted, "Slytherin!"

A chorus of cheers erupted from the Slytherin table. Alistair made his way over, nodding curtly to his new housemates. He slid into an empty seat beside Draco Malfoy, who immediately extended his hand in greeting.

"Welcome to Slytherin," Draco drawled, his grey eyes appraising the newcomer. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

"Alistair Montrose," the new student replied, shaking Draco's hand firmly.

The feast continued with the usual grandeur, but Alistair barely touched his food. His mind was elsewhere, contemplating the new environment and the challenges it would bring. He had left Durmstrang under mysterious circumstances, a topic he avoided discussing. As he glanced around, he noticed a few students from other houses casting suspicious looks his way. Not that he minded—Alistair was used to being an outsider.

The next morning, Alistair's first class was Potions with Professor Snape. He made his way to the dungeons, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and dread. Durmstrang had its share of stern professors, but Snape's reputation preceded him.

He entered the dimly lit classroom and took a seat at the back. Snape swept into the room, his black robes billowing behind him. His dark eyes scanned the students, pausing briefly on Alistair before continuing.

"Today we will be brewing Draught of Peace," Snape announced in his usual cold, clipped tone. "A subtle potion, easily ruined by incompetence. Follow the instructions precisely, or suffer the consequences."

Alistair listened intently, noting the disdain in Snape's voice. He had heard of Snape's favoritism towards Slytherin students, but there was something about the professor's demeanor that made him wary.

As the students began their preparations, Alistair worked methodically, measuring and mixing ingredients with precision. However, as he reached for a vial of powdered moonstone, he found it empty. Looking up, he saw that Malfoy had taken the last of it.

"Need something, Montrose?" Draco sneered, holding up the vial.

"Just the moonstone," Alistair replied evenly, his eyes narrowing.

Snape's voice cut through the room. "Is there a problem, Mr. Montrose?"

Alistair turned to face the professor. "I need more powdered moonstone, sir. It seems to be in short supply."

Snape's lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. "Perhaps you should have been quicker, Mr. Montrose. Resourcefulness is a valued trait in Slytherin. Find a way to complete your potion without it."

Alistair clenched his jaw but said nothing. He returned to his workstation, his mind racing. He knew the potion would be incomplete without the moonstone, but he was determined to find a solution. He scanned the ingredients, his eyes settling on a vial of powdered unicorn horn.

It was a risky move, but Alistair decided to substitute the unicorn horn for the moonstone. He carefully adjusted the proportions and added the ingredient, watching the potion closely as it simmered. The color was slightly off, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

When Snape came around to inspect their work, he paused at Alistair's cauldron. The professor dipped a ladle into the potion, examining it with a critical eye.

"This is not Draught of Peace," Snape hissed. "What did you add?"

"Powdered unicorn horn, sir," Alistair admitted.

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Unicorn horn? How presumptuous. This is a blatant disregard for instructions, Mr. Montrose. Ten points from Slytherin."

The class gasped. It was rare for Snape to deduct points from his own house. Alistair met Snape's glare with a calm, defiant gaze. He knew he had made an enemy, but he refused to back down.

"Detention, Mr. Montrose," Snape continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "Tonight. Do not be late."

As the class ended, students filed out of the dungeon, casting curious glances at Alistair. He packed up his things slowly, feeling the weight of Snape's animosity. Draco approached him, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Bold move, Montrose," Draco said. "But you'd do well to remember—Snape doesn't take kindly to being challenged."

"I don't care," Alistair replied, his voice steady. "I'll do what it takes to succeed, no matter what Snape thinks."

Draco raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. As Alistair left the dungeon, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction. He knew he had made a powerful enemy, but he was determined to prove himself, no matter the cost.