Silver King

10

"Incendio." Harry said as a small jet of flames shot out of his wand. Harry was currently in an unused classroom along with Blaise, Daphne and Tracy, the group were all being taught some spells by Angela.

"Well done, Harry." Angela smiled. "You got it before the others."

"What else is new?" Blaise snorted as he continued to try and master the spell.

Harry knew where Blaise was coming from, Harry was the top Slytherin in most of their classes. He had taken the top position in transfigurations, charms and defense against the dark arts, even if they only did theory in that one. The teacher for that class was the man who wore a purple turban at the opening feast, it wasn't a one time thing either as he continued to wear that turban all day, every day. His name was Professor Quirrell, and the odd thing about him was he had deep fear of pretty much everything while also having a frankly annoying stutter. Harry couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't anything magical that could help fix that stutter.

"Excellent," Jet hissed, he was perched on Harry's shoulder and providing active encouragement. "well done master, you're truly an impressive wizard."

"Try again," Angela said. "but I want you to try and make the flame bigger, then when you do that I want you to try it with a smaller flame."

"Why does he have to that?" Tracy asked in a curious voice.

"It's to help learn control," Angela answered. "no matter what spell you all learn, you should learn control, especially with spells that can be dangerous. Imagine if Harry wants to light a candle but then sends a quaffle sized ball of flames at someone."

"That makes sense," Daphne replied. "my mother told me that sometimes wizards and witches end up getting simple spells wrong because they put in too much power or not enough."

"Exactly," Angela nodded. "you should practice every spell you know until you're at the point where you can do it in your sleep."

"Somebody's been listening to Mum." Blaise commented before casting again.

"What's a quaffle?" Harry asked.

"How do you not know what a quaffle is?" Blaise blinked at him.

"Muggle raised, remember?"

"Oh, sorry." Blaise said, looking almost embarrassed for forgetting, he tried the spell once more to distract himself.

"It's a ball that's used in quidditch, which is basically the most famous sport in the wizarding world." Tracy explained.

"Finally!" Blaise grinned once he had gotten the spell.

"Yes, now keep practicing." Angela said before turning back to Harry. "By the way Harry, how has the school been treating you and Jet?"

"Well, most of the school is pretty much convinced that I am an evil, dark wizard." Harry scowled. "I've heard some people mention how they think that I am the heir of Slytherin."

"People think you're the heir?" Daphne asked.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "never mind the fact that my dad was a Potter and my mother was a muggleborn."

"I think you need to talk to somebody." Angela suggested.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"You should talk to a reporter, have them get your side of the story." Angela replied.

"A reporter?" Harry blinked.

"Yes, you need to remember that you are famous, Harry. Many people have spent years praising your name because you apparently defeated you-know-who, now they are all going to hear that you speak to snakes. I'm not saying that it's evil but many people have spent years associating snakes with evil." Angela stopped speaking when Jet began hissing loudly. "What did he say?" She asked once Jet had finished.