Turning Time (A Harry Potter Fanfic)

Furry Little Problem, pt. 2

Harry woke up the next morning, earlier than anyone else. He glanced at his watch—it was an hour before breakfast—and got up quietly. He dressed and freshened up, then headed to the common room. He reached the Great Hall before most of the other students had arrived. Of the students there, there was the highest percentage of Ravenclaws and the lowest percentage of Gryffindors. Harry was the only first year at his table. The rest of the students were older, either exhausted and yawning or catching up with friends. 

The dishes on the table were filled with fresh fruits, variously cooked eggs, baked goods, and breakfast meats. Harry helped himself to hash browns and toast and ate quietly until everyone else arrived. 

Lily and Severus joined Harry first, eventually followed by Lupin, Raven, Peter, and finally James and Sirius. The three other first year girls came last, right behind the two boys, giggling. Harry knew by looking at them that he doubted the group they’d established would get along well with them. However, Lily must’ve seen something in them if they’d been friends; “None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you,”she had said in Snape’s memories.

Maybe not becoming friends with those girls would help Severus and her stay close. By the way they looked with distaste at Severus and with interest at Sirius and James proved that their opinions must’ve had an impact on how she’d felt. 

Professor McGonagall went around the table, handing out schedules. Harry looked over his; it wasn’t much different from the one he had the last time he was a first year. Today they started in Charms with Professor Flitwick. 

“It should be easy, since we did pretty well on the train,” Lily said as they left the Great Hall. 

The other three nodded. Harry let them talk about the schedules as he remained silent, thinking about what lay ahead. How easy would it be to constantly pretend he was struggling with spells just like everyone else? He was more advanced than probably any other student in the school, with an exception of the seventh years. It’d be annoying to act dumb, or even average, at the most basic of spells. And yet, if he became like Hermione, acing nearly everything, knowing the answer to every question, people would develop an opinion of him—whether it was jealousy, annoyance, or whatever. He would be remembered, important, when he needed to be forgotten, significant only to a few. 

In Charms class, it was easier for Harry to not raise his hand when he knew the answer than to perform the spell the wrong way. He realized this when they were given a simple charm that was supposed to spin an object. Harry couldn’t figure out how to not do it right without saying the complete wrong words or waving his wand completely wrong. In other words, without acting like a complete idiot. The best Harry could manage was to put as much time between his tries as possible so it seemed like he was taking a while to figure it out, just like everyone else. 

On his first try, Harry flicked his wand wildly, causing many around him to snicker. Now he definitely was getting unwanted attention. Harry immediately retried the spell perfectly, partly to draw attention away from himself and partly because it was hard to ignore immature ridicule when he could do the spell better than any of them.

Unfortunately, it seemed like either way he decided to go through school would yield the same attention; either be a genius, and have respect from teachers and peers, but draw more attention and possibly suspicion to himself, or be dumb, and be teased and have others look down on him.

Professor Flitwick, beaming, hurried over to where Harry was sitting. 

“Mr. Walker—correct? Yes, Walker, that was brilliant!”

Harry glanced at his friends, who looked frustrated at their lack of results and the ease in which he succeeded. He shrank in his seat, guilty from his dishonesty. He had to find a middle ground.