Harry Potter was a boy whom the wizarding world called the "Savior."
In the eleven gray years of his past life, he had never experienced anything like this before. For the first time, he truly understood what it meant to be the center of attention.
He still remembered the scene when Rubeus Hagrid brought him into the Leaky Cauldron. People rushed forward to shake his hand, expressing their admiration and respect.
Harry honestly could not remember ever doing anything worthy of such reverence.
But honestly, he did not care.
Right now he felt satisfied. Happy.
He could confidently say that last night's feast had been the best meal he had ever eaten.
Actually, not just the best.
The most filling.
No, that was wrong.
The most he had ever stuffed himself.
The students here were very friendly. Except for that pale boy on the train.
On the train he had made his first friend his own age, Ron Weasley.
Thinking about how he would never go hungry again, never face Dudley's fists, never hear the Dursleys' insults, and never deal with Aunt Marge's horrible dog again…
Harry sometimes felt as if he were dreaming.
But soon, things started becoming uncomfortable.
The next morning, the moment Harry stepped out of the dormitory, whispers followed him everywhere.
People kept staring at his scar.
Between classes, after lessons, groups of students gathered outside classrooms hoping to see him.
In the corridors people walked around him just to stare.
Even when he went to the bathroom, a crowd would gather outside.
To be honest, Harry almost missed the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursleys'.
Well… almost.
Going from one extreme to another was not something anyone could easily adapt to.
Luckily, Ron was always nearby, helping him out of awkward situations.
Although being treated like some rare animal was embarrassing and annoying, Harry could tell the students meant no harm.
Still, he was exhausted by the constant attention.
It had been four days since school started, and the crowds around him had not decreased at all.
So Harry made a risky decision.
He would arrive at class exactly on time, avoiding the crowds as much as possible.
Ron did not seem entirely happy about the plan.
Unfortunately, Harry forgot something important.
He did not know his way around the magical castle.
To arrive exactly on time, he needed to know the routes to every classroom, how long it took to get there, and which staircases moved.
Neither he nor Ron knew any of that.
So it was only natural that they arrived late to Transfiguration class on Thursday morning.
Minerva McGonagall was a very strict witch.
Harry had known that from the moment he first met her.
Perhaps because of Harry's reputation as the Savior, she did not punish them.
But Harry's real problem was not Professor McGonagall.
It was a girl named Hermione Granger.
Harry had already experienced her constant lecturing on the train. Now he had to endure it again.
She kept repeating what he and Ron had done wrong and what they should have done instead.
Eventually, Harry and Ron decided to keep their distance from the overly talkative Hermione.
Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron.
For the first time, they managed to find the correct route to the Great Hall without getting lost.
"What classes do we have today?" Harry asked while eating an apple pie.
"Potions with Slytherin in the morning," Ron replied through a mouthful of food.
"It's a double class."
"Snape is the Head of Slytherin. I heard he's very biased toward Slytherin students. We'll see if that's true."
At that moment, Hermione's voice interrupted them.
"Yes, that's true. Solim told me the same thing."
Harry and Ron immediately recognized the voice.
They exchanged a glance and continued eating.
"Snape really favors his own house," Hermione continued. "Solim said he'll find any opportunity to take points from Gryffindor."
"Wait," Ron said. "You mean Snape will target us?"
"Yes. That's what Solim said. So yesterday he helped Neville and me review the important points for Potions."
She glanced at Neville Longbottom.
"With his help, Neville can now brew the Cure for Boils without blowing up the cauldron."
"Wait," Ron said. "Who is this Solim? And he helped you study Potions?"
"You were sleeping during the Sorting Ceremony, weren't you?" Hermione said.
"He was the one who kept talking the whole time. And he's Neville's cousin."
"I remember him," Ron said slowly. "He's a Slytherin."
Harry and Ron both looked at Neville.
Neville nodded.
"Yes. He's my cousin."
"How can you have a Slytherin cousin?" Ron said. "That house produces dark—"
He was interrupted by the sound of flapping wings.
Owls were arriving with the morning mail.
Harry had already gotten used to it.
On the first morning it had frightened him when hundreds of owls flew into the Great Hall.
The birds swooped above the tables until they found their owners and dropped letters or packages onto their laps.
So far, Harry's owl, Hedwig, had not delivered anything.
Sometimes she simply pecked his ear for a piece of toast before flying back to the owlery.
But today she landed between the jam and sugar bowls and dropped a note onto Harry's plate.
Harry opened it immediately.
"What does it say?" Ron asked.
"It's from Hagrid. He wants me to visit him this afternoon."
Harry borrowed Ron's quill and wrote a quick reply on the back of the note.
"Okay. I'd love to. See you soon."
Then Hedwig flew away.
Harry had already sensed during the opening feast that Severus Snape disliked him.
After the first Potions lesson, he realized he had been wrong.
Snape did not dislike him.
He hated him.
Potions class was held in a dungeon classroom.
It was colder than the castle above, and glass jars filled with preserved animals lined the walls.
Like Filius Flitwick, Snape began class by calling roll.
And just like Flitwick, he paused when he reached Harry's name.
"Oh yes," he said softly.
"Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity."
Draco Malfoy, along with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, snickered.
Snape's eyes swept across the classroom.
They were black like Hagrid's, but without warmth.
They reminded Harry of dark tunnels.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Snape said quietly.
"You will not find foolish wand waving here."
"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."
"But only if you are not the usual bunch of dunderheads I teach."
After this speech, the classroom was silent.
Harry and Ron exchanged looks.
Hermione leaned forward eagerly, clearly determined to prove she was not a dunderhead.
"Potter," Snape suddenly said.
"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry had no idea.
Hermione's hand shot into the air.
"I don't know, sir," Harry admitted.
Snape sneered.
"Tut, tut. Fame clearly isn't everything."
He ignored Hermione's raised hand.
"Let's try again."
"Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione's hand stretched even higher.
"I don't know, sir."
"Perhaps you haven't opened a single book before coming here, Potter?"
Harry forced himself to maintain eye contact.
He had read his textbooks, but how could he memorize everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?
"Potter," Snape continued. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Hermione stood up with her hand raised.
"I don't know," Harry said quietly.
"But Hermione does. Why don't you ask her?"
Some students laughed.
Snape was clearly displeased.
"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione.
"Let me explain, Potter."
"Asphodel and wormwood produce the Draught of Living Death."
"A bezoar is a stone taken from a goat's stomach and serves as an antidote to most poisons."
"And monkshood and wolfsbane are actually the same plant, also known as aconite."
"Why aren't you writing this down?"
Students hurriedly grabbed quills and parchment.
"Because you answered back to a teacher, Potter, Gryffindor loses one point."
Draco nearly fell off his chair laughing.
Many Slytherin students whispered and laughed while looking at Harry.
But Harry noticed one Slytherin student who was different.
He kept his head down, reading a book.
He did not laugh.
Harry thought, That's strange.
Thanks to Ron's influence and Draco's behavior, Harry had already formed a strong dislike for Slytherin.
But this student seemed different.
Potions class continued.
Gryffindor students kept running into trouble.
Seamus Finnigan blew up his cauldron.
Ron somehow twisted his cauldron into a warped lump.
Lavender Brown produced a horrible smell.
The only Gryffindors who succeeded were Hermione and Neville.
Their potions looked exactly like the instructions described.
Meanwhile, the Slytherins worked quietly and efficiently.
Snape had already deducted seven points from Gryffindor.
"Neville," Ron asked, "how did you do it?"
"My cauldron is ruined."
"Can't you read?" Hermione said impatiently.
"The steps are written clearly on the board."
She could not understand how Gryffindor students kept failing.
Hermione noticed Solim had already bottled his potion and handed it to Snape.
Meanwhile she and Neville were still several steps away from finishing.
After class, Harry noticed Hermione and Neville waiting outside the classroom.
He and Ron slowed down to watch.
Soon the Slytherins came out.
The same student Harry had noticed earlier walked toward Hermione and Neville.
"Thank you, Solim," Neville said. "Without you I would have been finished today."
"Shouldn't you thank me too?" Hermione said.
"Neville almost added the porcupine quills without removing the cauldron from the fire. If I hadn't been watching him, yesterday's accident would have happened again."
"Alright," Solim said. "What are you two doing this afternoon?"
Harry finally remembered him.
It was the same boy from the Sorting Ceremony.
He pulled Ron behind a corner so they could listen.
"Solim, do you have time tonight?" Hermione asked.
"I've almost finished the book you lent me."
"Come to the usual place after dinner," Solim replied.
"You can pick another book."
As their voices faded, Ron whispered angrily.
"Two Gryffindor traitors!"
"They're getting friendly with those snakes."
"What do you think, Harry?"
Harry did not believe Hermione and Neville were traitors.
But he did want to know why they were so close to Solim.
Neville was his cousin, but why was Hermione involved?
Clearly they had practiced brewing potions with him the night before.
That was why they succeeded today.
Harry thought for a moment.
"Let's leave it for now," he told Ron.
"I'm visiting Hagrid this afternoon."
"Tonight we'll ask Hermione about it."