Potter Spawn

Chapter 12

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

The whispers had been following Harry since he arrived, and he had to admit it was a little overwhelming. While he knew to appreciate the attention, even to bask it in a bit, he was not used to the spotlight. Being watched wherever he went did not sit well with him, and Sirius had said he had a modest streak – far more than his father ever did. He said Harry got that from his mother, and it would serve him well lest he become an attention – seeking little brat. Subtlety had never been Sirius' strong point, but Harry was thankful for his presence anyways. Sirius was good at staying hidden. He was never far from Harry but managed to blend into the shadows flawlessly. So far, no one but his dormmates, Hermione and the trouble trio that was George, Fred and Lee had noticed the gigantic black dog that was constantly following him around.

Speaking of his friends, he couldn't express how glad he was to have them around. While he may not trust them with his and Sirius' secret, he already trusted them with a whole lot of other stuff – having his back, for example, or homework help. Earlier that day, they had received a metaphorical mountain of homework from their transfiguration teacher and head of house, Professor McGonagall. While Harry could already tell she would be his favourite teacher (no surprises there, considering his family history and strongly biased godfather) and knew he had a knack for the subject already, he didn't have any illusions concerning her playing favourites or going easy on Gryffindors. She was the strictest teacher he'd ever had, but he found himself rather impressed by the formidable lady. So far, he thought she liked him, too.

"Well done, Mr Potter", she had said, smiling down at him when he had been the first and only one to fully transfigure his match into a needle. "It appears you have inherited your father's talent for transfiguration. Five points to Gryffindor."

The only other student to make any noticeable difference at all had been Hermione, who had looked only slightly put – off that Harry was better in a class than her.

The only subject Harry did not like very much so far was herbology. He had little patience for tending to plants, and while he didn't mind the dirt, there was nothing interesting about the plants. It was boring and it was far too hot in the greenhouse and the soil got into his gardening gloves, making his hands itch.

Neville thrived in it. He knew all of the material already and most of the second – and third – class curriculum. Gardening seemed to have a calming effect on him, and his insecurities and shyness melted away as soon as they stepped into the greenhouse.

"Plants don't judge", he had said when Harry had asked him about his completely unfathomable fascination with the subject. Harry had replied Ron, Hermione and he didn't judge either, and had earned himself a rare genuine smile.

So far, Ron found his favourite class to be mealtimes. Harry and Neville agreed he would get an O in chicken – wings – eating. Hermione scoffed and called them ridiculous. Sirius said she was a stick in the mud.

Currently, they were sitting at the Gryffindor table and Ron was once again showcasing his expertise, only this time with pancakes instead of dead animal. Hermione, Neville and Harry were discussing the upcoming potions class, which Harry was admittedly rather excited for. After all, his mother had been a potions prodigy and the subject sounded rather exciting. He wouldn't let Snape ruin that connection, not for anything in the world.

"Snape's the head of Slytherin house", Ron said through a mouthful of syrup and chewed – up pancake. "They say he always favours them – we'll see if it's true."