Harry Potter And the Rulers of Two Realms

Living Up To His Surname

Harry wondered why Ron have to be in Gryffindor with Neville. Now he was alone in Ravenclaw. He looked at his year mates, taking note of them. He sighed as he pushed around his breakfast. At least Anthony Goldstein was friendly enough and didn't seem to mind his fame as Harry Potter. In fact, the blond boy was practically the glue in their dorm. He was very friendly in comparison to their more solitary dorm mates. Harry wasn't sure if they were intimidated or just being typical bookworms.

Harry sighed, "Ah...the curse of scholars...introverts,"

Anthony called him from the door of the Great Hall, "Harry, we are going to be late to our first class!"

Bless Anthony.

The first class was a little boring. In fact, Harry quickly found that the first month was full of nothing but theories and essays about the safeties and dangers of the classes. Not that he didn't get it, but it was boring due to the repetitive nature of them. Even Prof Snape's class was only interesting due to the man's penchant to wax poetry about potions of all thing. Also, he's cheating, Harry swear. He must have taken some sort of potion for the voice. The only one who he had seen caused the same impact in the class as Severus was his Dad. When Danny read anything, with his ghostly echo that seeped into people's brain, he could easily hypnotize them. Harry would know. He grew up falling asleep to the man's voice. Not to mention, the way his Mum would looked like she was dreaming whenever he sang or read poetry to her every Valentine, Harry knew what hypnotic voice would sound like.

He bet that Prof Snape have teenage girls for fans...and maybe a few boys.

He also wondered if the man kept contact with Aunt Ellie.

By the last weekend of the month, Harry took out his violin to stress play. He didn't care that the Great Hall was staring at him for his sudden performance. He just thought that that 'Cinematic Classical Violin' cover by Rafael Krux would convey his stress of doing nothing but theories and essays about class ethics. By the time the last tune echoed in the silent hall during dinner faded, Headmaster Dumbledore was clapping his hand in merriment, "Well said, Mr. Khaos! Well said! Especially for the first month,"

Terry Boot asked his closest House mate, "What did he mean by that?"

Harry answered him, "That is how stress sounds like if it have sound,"

Since then, Harry used either his violin or his kalimba to express his emotions and thoughts without wanting to be outright rude to people. Most of the time, it was the kalimba. The 'Lost Wood' from his favorite game was good for thinking and avoiding conversation in his Common Room. Harry didn't not like his House mates. But they were dull and preferred to just read whatever subject struck their fancy than discussing things like magical steam train's engine.

By the second month in Hogwarts, he was leeching on Ron for emotional support.

Ron grunted, "Harry, get off. You're heavy!"

Harry whimpered, "But I need emotional support, Ron. Only you...almost get me,"

Ron rolled his eyes, "No. That's a flaming lie and you know it. You want Luna, not me,"

Harry sat beside him, still half draped over the ginger, "True. She gets me," He then stared at Ron's essay, "Sheesh...Prof Snape is going to give a 'T' for how short and empty that is, Ron,"

Ron sighed, "Look, I am doing my best-,"

"Which is nothing,"

"-and you nagging me like Granger is not going to give me inspiration to write longer!" He ranted.

Harry frowned, "Who?"

Ron huffed and pointed at a bushy haired girl scribbling away on her parchment, "A horrid, most annoying know-it-all. She is such a show off!"