And that was to say nothing of the filth they drank.
Sugary juice wasn’t bad, that was a source of energy, but the juice of a squash?
Really?
And their idea of tea was just disgusting.
Heavy milk in overbrewed waste.
“Where were you, Potter?” snapped the greasy one.
Hari looked up.
He’d seen the Professor approaching and had chosen to ignore the man in the hopes that he wouldn’t want to talk.
There was something decidedly unpleasant about his attitude.
“Could you be more specific, sir?” he asked.
“I have been alive for eleven years and consequently in quite a lot of space.”
“This morning, Potter.
When the House was being questioned.” The greasy one’s face was reddening.
“I didn’t want to be bothered, so I went looking for the kitchens.” Hari replied mildly.
“Could you tell me where I can find them, sir?
I looked around and I was unable to work it out.
I’d like to talk to them about seeing if some proper food can be arranged.”
“Detention!” growled Snape.
“This must be a record.
Even your arrogant father didn’t manage it on his first morning!”
“I don’t think my father ever served a detention in his life.
It’s bad form to attend them, sir.
It shows lack of skill.” Hari cocked his head.
“And you are wrong; he was assigned detention his first morning—so was everyone else.
‘Good practice avoiding patrols’, I think he said.”
Snape snarled in inarticulate rage and stormed off, muttering.
Hari was amused at some of the inventive phrases.
Though he wished the man would stop saying things about his father.
He was still sure his father had never even been to England and so it was surprising that people managed to hate him here.
At least he knew why people were scared of him back home.
Here, it was just strange.
“Good morning, students!” Beard-man was decidedly cheerful for early morning.
Hari was not a morning person so much as he was a person who liked not being cooked.
Since his father’s idea of dealing with someone sleeping in was to set the bed on fire, he’d learned to be awake in the mornings.
“Welcome to your first day at Hogwarts.
Welcome to the first day of the new school year to our returning students.
I’m sure all of you are eager to be going to classes so you can get your homework, so I won’t delay too long with announcements.” He was apparently unaware of the general poor response to his statement.
“Your head of house will soon come by with schedules.
Make sure to be on time to your classes, especially those of you who are first years—first impressions make a huge difference in how your time at Hogwarts will go.
Those of you who make a poor showing, for example, will no doubt be hated by your Professors and punished with subtle dislike and a myriad of special ways a teacher can make a student’s life an utter misery.
I’m looking at Miss Raide over there in Hufflepuff.
“In keeping with Hogwarts tradition, no Prefect or Professor will answer questions regarding locations of various key points of the castle including, but not limited to: classrooms, common rooms, the Great Hall, the entrance hall, Hogsmeade, the Hospital Wing, the owlrey, the kitchens, or the places out of the way of patrols where students can get themselves pregnant.
I have so far managed to keep pregnancies to an unheard-of low during my time here and I wish to continue this trend.
To that end, I ask that any young witch willing to put out please see the mediwitch about contraceptives.
Furthermore, I ask any wizard intending to partake in such activities to please see same about same.
The wards are configured to alert nearby patrols to any such actions without protection and I will remind those of you old enough to enjoy it that prefects patrol with cameras so that we can publish pictures of anyone who fails to maintain contraceptive safety.
“On the subject of clubs, we will be preparing a list of them starting next week.
Good morning.” He turned and walked out of the room, dressing gown flapping around his knees as he sipped from a cup of tea, a cheerfully bemused expression on his face.
Hari snickered to himself as the first years looked around to find that no one seemed the least bit concerned about these statements.
He glanced through the schedules in front of Snape for his, read it and rose.
He gave his peers in the house a cheery wave that they returned with glares, silence, rude gestures, and death threats.
He felt like he was back home in god’s tower—Uncle Hidan liked to show affection.
Hari was sitting with his feet on a desk when the rest of the first year Slytherins trooped into the Charms classroom.
“How did you get here?” hissed Malfoy.
“I walked,” replied Hari.
“The human foot is eminently capable of enabling transportation.
Didn’t you use them?”
“Perhaps,” murmured a girl he was pretty sure was named Greenass.
“What Malfoy meant was that you didn’t wait for the Professor to give us schedules and so you shouldn’t have known what class we have or where it is.”
“I read my schedule, same as you, though,” said Hari.
“It said where the classroom is and everything.”
“But not with any point of reference,” she replied.
“And besides, you left before the schedules were handed out.”
“So?”
“So you shouldn’t have known!”
“But I read it.”
She threw her hands up and sat down next to him—all the other seats on the side of the room that seemed to have been taken by Slytherin were occupied.
Hufflepuffs began to enter the room.
“For the sake of curiosity,” he began.
“Don’t talk to me.”
“Fine, fine.
Just, so I don’t get it wrong: what’s your name?”