Harry Potter: The Blogger of Hogwarts

One thing I don't like about this place is the way everyone keeps staring and whispering at me. To be fair, it's probably more of the Boy Who Lived thing than the whole Slytherin thing, but the Slytherin thing didn't help. We have to wear these dumb uniforms with pointy hats that makes us all look like the Wicked Witch of the West. Did whoever designed her somehow know about these uniforms or is it a coincidence? Inquiring minds want to know! Getting back on track, the uniforms for each house match the house colors and I think that's just not nice. It just means us Slytherins get ostracized more.

It's really sad to watch. People look at me like I'm going to eat their soul and I would never do something like that because souls probably taste terrible and also it would be wrong. I'm not a bad guy. I've never done anything evil in my life. But people look at me like I'm Dudley and it's absolutely bloody sickening. We have a lot of work to do.

I also have a lot of homework to do, which neatly segues into my review of the classes! If any professors are reading this, I have a right to free speech, I'm sure, and I will vigorously fight any punishments given because I'm criticizing you. I warn you, I'm abnormally persistent and I'm also a celebrity now, so I've got that going in my favor.

Herbology is basically horticulture/biology and it's not really especially magical. The teacher is nice though, with the suspiciously apropos name of Professor Sprout. Sprout (and, no, Hermione, I'm not going to use the professor title on my blog all the time) is the head of Hufflepuff house so I was worried she might be biased, but she's actually quite fair. She told me she was pleased I was trying to improve Slytherin's reputation. Apparently, the two houses got along surprisingly well back in the day before Snape drove it into the ground.

History of Magic is absolutely fascinating, but I'm literally the only one who thinks that. Everyone around me is napping, but I just can't help but listen to the history of a whole other world, occurring right under our noses, and think it's the coolest thing ever. Most people find Professor Binns (and darn it, he deserves that title) to be soporific (thanks to Hermione for helping me find that word), but something about him brings out the hyperfocus in me. We'll see if that lasts. It doesn't always.

Charms is very interesting and useful, but I'm not impressed with the teacher, who fell off the pile of books he was standing on in shock when he read my name on the role call, despite knowing very well I was there. He's also the head of Ravenclaw House so…kind of glad I wasn't sorted into there.

Transfiguration is…well, I want to do well there, because it seems extraordinarily helpful, but I'm finding it very difficult to focus in there. And McGonagall seems to bear a grudge against me. Apparently, my parents were her favorite students and she thinks I'm insulting their memory by being placed into Slytherin. She seems to be picking on me a bit, but I can't say it's for things I'm not doing wrong, so I'm going to wait until things escalate before I do something about it. Maybe I can talk some sense into her. Though I'm not very good at that.

Defense Against the Dark Arts is precisely as good as I thought it was going to be, which is to say absolutely terrible. Quirrell cannot teach his way out of a paper bag. He's frightened of his own shadow and I honestly feel like I would probably do a better job of teaching the class. At least he doesn't really pay attention to anything the students are doing, allowing me and Ron to joke around to our heart's content. To add insult to injury, the awful smell of garlic gives me a constant headache.

And potions…potions is odd. Apparently, I really dodged a bullet by not being taught by Snape, who not only was driving Slytherin into ruin but hated my father was a burning passion according to Professor Sinistra. But while O'Neill is a really, really good teacher, there's something about him that gives me the willies. There's something about him that seems off. And even more annoyingly, I just can't put my finger on it! He seems nervous, but not at Quirrell levels. More like he's waiting for something to happen and it keeps on not happening and thus his anxiety is building and building with no relief. I'm keeping an eye on that guy. He's hiding something.

O'Neill isn't the only one who's acting oddly, though. Hagrid invited me for a cup of tea and a chat. Being the sociable fellow I am, I obviously invited Ron and Hermione. I haven't heard from Hagrid since I got sorted, so I was worried he might bear a grudge against me for being in Slytherin, which would honestly hurt, because Hagrid was the first person who really gave a damn about me. But it turns out I had nothing to worry about, because Hagrid was a Slytherin himself!

"'Course that was years and years ago," Hagrid said vaguely. "Feels like a whole other life. Well, the three of you look cold. Why don't I make some borscht." He looked at Hermione as if that was supposed to mean something to her. It clearly didn't.

As Hagrid started puttering away on the stove, he kept on making very odd comments about Russia to Hermione, like asking her opinion about the Ukraine war ("or maybe your parents call it a special military operation, eh?!" he said as if this was supposed to be a smoking gun) or asking her opinion on Crime and Punishment, though Hermione completely misinterpreted what he meant by this and started chattering away about various judicial cases to Hagrid's bewilderment.

"What the heck?" Ron whispered to me.

"I don't know, mate," I whispered back. "Maybe he's distracting himself from doing a green scare by doing a red one?"

To distract myself, I picked up a newspaper lying on Hagrid's table and if I'd been drinking anything, I would have spit it out at the circled article, one pertaining to a break in at Gringotts.

"Hagrid!" I shouted. "This break-in, that was on my birthday! We were there! Do you think the goblins might suspect us?" I paled as I recalled how upset the goblins had been when I took pictures in the lobby. What if they were suspecting me of casing the joint?!

"I'm sure everything will be fine," Hagrid said slowly, as if bewildered I had leapt to that conclusion. "Um, but aren't you curious about what was stolen?"

I stared at him. "To heck with that! They didn't rob my vault. I need to find a lawyer! Come on, guys!" I hightailed it out of the hut and a bemused Ron and Hermione followed suit.

"BUT WHAT ABOUT YOUR BORSCHT?!"

.....

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