Our Father's Sons // HP

Chapter Eleven

Harry returned to the Great Hall, still lost in thought. Maybe Adam was just in shock about his sudden appearance. Who knew what their parents had told him about Harry? And Sirius and Remus had said that the fame had gone to their heads. Was that it? Was Adam just stuck up? Or was it something else?

Draco was seated at the Slytherin table when he returned, along with the rest of the first years.

"Where have you been?" he asked, as he filled his plate. "You were gone when we got up."

"I'm used to waking up early," Harry said. "And I wanted to read a bit, and send Sirius and Remus a letter."

"You've found the owlery, then? You'll have to show me, I need to write to my parents, as well. What's wrong? You look off."

Harry debated telling Draco about his encounter with his brother, and decided for it. Maybe Draco would know something about the Potter's.

After he was finished, Draco snorted, shaking his head.

"My father says that James Potter is too famous for his own good. Everyone knows the Boy-Who-Lived, and everyone knows about the great James Potter, head auror. He's probably just jealous that you'll take some attention away from him, or something."

Maybe that was true, Harry thought. But he wondered if something as simple as jealousy would cause Adam's reaction. After all, Harry wasn't famous or anything. Not like Adam was. He shrugged, and waited for their schedules to be handed out, trying to put his brother out of his mind. There wasn't anything he could do about it, anyway. Not then.

Professor Snape soon came around, handing out pieces of parchment with their schedules on it. Harry eagerly examined his, excited to start learning magic. It was so different than muggle school, so much better.

As he walked to his first class, transfiguration, accompanied by Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, he realized that people were staring at him.

"Do you think he's a real Potter?"

"I heard he was supposed to be a squib!"

"Hah! I guess old James Potter made a mistake."

Harry tried to ignore it, but it made him uncomfortable. To be the subject of their gossip, to be in the spotlight... for someone who was used to going unnoticed, it was unnerving. In his old school, the other students ignored him as best, or else they would risk the wrath of Dudley and his gang. But there was no one here that cared if Harry was talked about, or made friends. It was a good thing, but he found that it was taking some getting used to.

With directions from one of the Slytherin prefects, Harry, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle made it to transfiguration just in time, settling down just as class started. Harry remembered Professor McGonagall from when he had arrived at Hogwarts, and she seemed the type that would be very strict. He didn't want to mess about in her class. But he was excited to be taught by her. She had featured in some of Sirius and Remus's stories from Hogwarts. And, of course, transfiguration was necessary if he wanted to become an animagus like his godfather.

Once Professor McGonagall arrived, class began without delay. She gave a stern lecture on the seriousness of what they would learn, how dangerous it could be, and that fooling around wouldn't be tolerated. Nothing that Harry was surprised by. What he was surprised by was the amount of notes he had to take. Even though he had skimmed his books and heard from Sirius and Remus, somehow he had still expected magic to be less complicated. It was foolish in hindsight, he supposed.

After a great deal of the theoretical, Professor McGonagall finally allowed them to take out their wands. They were to be transfiguring the matches that she handed out into needles.

The classroom was filled for a time with the sound of first years chanting the incantation, with no success. Harry, his holly wand in hand, pointed it at the match and gave it a try. No change to the match.

He frowned.

Harry wasn't arrogant enough to believe that he would be able to get it if the rest of his class couldn't, but he hadn't expected such difficulties. The magic he experienced so far had seemed like, well, magic. Effortless and wonderful.

It turned out it took a little practice to get to that point.

He glanced back at his notes, biting his lip. Was he missing something? Or did it just take a lot of effort and practice to get done?

He hoped so. None of the others had managed it so far, so maybe it wasn't a problem with him.

Harry repeated the incantation, again moving his wand the way that Professor McGonagall had demonstrated. He glanced over at the Gryffindor side of the room, wondering if they were doing any better. Wondering if Adam was doing any better than he was.

He shook his head slightly. He didn't want to be enemies with his twin, or even rivals. So why did he care how Adam was doing in class?

A few minutes later, with Harry no closer to succeeding, he became aware of some commotion with the Gryffindors, and looked up from his efforts. It seemed that one of them had succeeded - or nearly, anyway.

Professor McGonagall was demonstrating how her match had gone silver and pointed. Not quite a needle, but progress nonetheless.

Harry felt a pang of jealousy that he tried to squash down. It was the nosy girl from the train, who had accused him of breaking the rules by bringing Hedwig.

If she could change her match, why couldn't he? Was there something wrong with him?

He looked over at Draco, who was sitting next to him.

Draco's brow was furrowed, and he was glaring at the Gryffindors.

"Thinks she's so special," he muttered, as Professor McGonagall awarded Gryffindor points. "It's a stupid spell, anyway. Who would need to transform a match into a needle?"

Harry thought that was beside the point - you did simple magic now so that you could learn to do complicated magic later. But he wasn't about to point that out to Draco.

He glanced at the Gryffindors again. The girl who had succeeded, if only partially, looked rather proud of herself, and he felt another flash of jealousy, this time mixed with anger.

Who was she, anyway, to succeed where he couldn't?

He closed his eyes, remembering what Remus had told him about magic over the summer. He had been full of questions, once he learned that Remus was willing to teach him. And his biggest question was how magic worked. Remus had laughed, telling him that wizards had been trying to answer that question for as long as magic existed. But, Remus had said, magic did seem to respond to the willpower and emotions of the witch or wizard wielding it. That's how accidental magic worked for children.

Harry focused all his will on wanting the needle to change. He pictured it in his mind, silver and pointed. He remembered what the needle felt like in his hand when he had mended clothing for his aunt, the smooth texture, the pain of poking himself in the thumb. And, unbidden, he thought of how much he wanted to show everyone that he wasn't a squib. How much he wanted to prove his parents wrong.

He waved his wand in a short motion, and, without even realizing that it had happened, the match was a needle.

"Hey, you did it!" Draco said, looking over at Harry. He raised his hand, undoubtedly wanting points for Slytherin. "Professor! Harry's done it!"

McGonagall hurried over to their table, eyebrows raised. She looked at Harry's transfigured needle, before picking it up and examining it.

"Very well done, Mr. Potter," she said, warmth in her voice. "Ten points to Slytherin for outstanding work."

Harry grinned.

"Look at Potter," Draco whispered into his ear, as Professor McGonagall turned away.

He did. His twin looked furious.

[A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked and commented! A couple of people have asked about pairings, and the short answer is, they're only eleven - they won't get paired up for a while! If this story does last long enough for them to get older and start dating, I will let you know then.]