The Intelligent Potter

*** Potions class

They didn't cover anything but theory in charms, which Harry listened to avidly, despite knowing most of what was being taught, after all, it's foolish to ever pass up a chance to learn new information.

He was looking forward to Potions quite a bit, it seemed like one of the most important subjects, but what he had heard about it, by listening in on conversations was mostly really negative.

Harry had read ahead, the entire textbook, so he was hoping that he wouldn't fall behind in his Potions education if the teacher did turn out to be subpar.

The Potions Master strode into the classroom, robe billowing behind him, scowl on his face, and oily hair sticking to his head.

'I have to know how he does the cloak billowing thing', Harry thought.

Snape stood at the front of the class.

"The art of potions requires no foolish wand waving, so I doubt any of you dunderheads will be able to get it… but if you can truly learn the art of pioneering, in this class you can learn to bottle fame, brew a fortune and put a stopper on death."

He sneered at the entire class.

"But if you're the usual dunderheads that I have to teach, then I'll be rid of you come OWL year."

He glared at Harry particularly and began to take attendance.

"Harry Potter, our new… celebrity…" Snape called out, his malicious intent obvious in his voice.

Harry idly noticed all of Snape's intimidation tactics and noted them down in case he needed to use them later.

"Lets see if you've done your reading shall we? Potter! Where would you find a bezoar!"

"In the stomach of a goat, sir." Harry replied respectfully.

"What's the difference between monkswood and wolfsbane." Snape snapped back.

"They are one and the same, sir."

Snape looked at him appraisingly before looking away and ignoring him and continuing with the roll call.

"Instructions on the board, begin, you have half an hour." Snape said, flourishing his wand and leaving the instructions on the board.

Ron started to complain loudly, and Snape deducted 10 points from Gryffindor.

Harry inwardly rolled his eyes. Snape was no great shakes as a teacher but complaining and insulting him would only make him worse.

Harry started on his own potion, and found that his cooking skills helped him quite a bit in his cure for boils, he quickly and efficiently completed his potion in 25ish minutes and bottled it, handing it to Snape, and wondering what his reaction would be to his nearly perfect potion.

Snape studied the vial carefully and far more critically than he had looked at Malfoys'.

"Hmmm, passable…" Snape reluctantly said, putting an A into his grade book.

"I'll try to do better next time, sir." Harry offered politely, while still inwardly knowing that his potion was easily worth an O.

Still, Snape would not be conducting the end-of-years, so Harry did not have to worry about his potions OWLs and NEWTs as long as he kept up his standard of work.

*** After Harry's potions class

Snape stared after the departed class, reevaluating his thoughts on the spawn of James Potter. He had expected him to be a carbon copy of the late Lord Potter, arrogant, not studying, laughing through potions, but instead Harry was polite and submitted a potion that was even better than Draco's. Still, the boy was related to James Potter but still, MAYBE, he wasn't as bad as he'd thought he'd be.

Snape grudgingly changed the A in his book into an O, deciding to wait, just a bit, before condemning the Potter child altogether.

*** Defence class

Defence was the most useless class that Harry had ever sat in. At least in Potions, they were learning something by making Potions, even if Snape was a bad teacher, but in Defence, Quirrell stuttered the entire time, reading the first paragraph of a textbook that Harry had read and deemed useless.

Harry zoned out Quirrell, instead picking up his book on occlumency and reading the third stage. The first had been objectifying his memories as books and the second had been, organising them into a library of sorts.

Harry started reading.

The third stage of Occlumency is building your mental defences. The most important thing to remember while performing this stage is that inside your mind, you control everything. This stage if often easier for younger people purely because their imagination runs wilder and is less controlled. There have been recorded instances of children pushing a.d.u.l.ts violently out of their minds while just imagining toy soldiers or the like.

For this stage, you must locate your 'mental library' and anchor all your defences around it. You must imagine walls around the library, and there will be walls. You can imagine your own defences as well, your only restriction is your imagination. At first, you will need to concentrate on your defences to keep them up, but once you have thought up walls and some basic defences, and can keep them there for an extended period of time, by concentrating on it, you are ready to move on to step 4.

Harry put down the book. He doubted that he would be allowed to meditate in Quirrell's classroom, or any classroom for that matter, he did not want to give the impression that he was sleeping in class to any of his teachers, even Quirrell.

He picked up his occlumency book again and was about to start reading step 4, when a piercing pain hit his scar.

Harry's hand immediately shot up to his scar. Quirrell was looking at him quite intently, and Harry realised, behind the curtain of pain, the tickling sensation of legilimency, the art of invading his mind.

With a little concentration, Harry finally got a chance to put his theoretical Occlumency knowledge to the test, the boy put up walls and cannons, and started blasting the intruder, who he assumed to be Quirrell without a second thought. It was only after he'd managed to catch Quirrell by surprise and knock him over, throwing off his virtual cloak, that he realised it wasn't Quirrel who was snooping around in his mind.

It was Voldemort.