54 Gryffindors. 203 Hogwarts students. One night sleep-walking. Motivation from dementors. The Patronus Charm. People. Let Harry Potter's Campaign of Sociality begin. Why? Because Harry Potter is going to meet and at least try to befriend all the likeable people in school. He is going to prepare for whatever dark futures lie ahead of him, like the whole Black fiasco, but he's going to do this with the help of his entire school. Mostly. Only the likeable people, remember?

Follow Harry as he purposefully changes the course of his life, as he puts effort into spending more time with more people, and develops from a broken, hurting young boy, into a powerful, determined, independent warrior with the loyalty of many behind him. Join with Harry, know-it-all Hermione Granger, beaten little Paradise Aster, confidant and confident Neville Longbottom, sadistic-evil-loveable Kenneth Towler, "Deathbringer" Hedwig Potter, the fourth year Gryffindor girls, and so many more, you won't be able to keep track, eh, probably. All 203 students and more will be mentioned at one time or other during Harry Potter's third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Oh, and Harry is super rich, but… I might as well tell you that he hates it. This is Harry we're talking about, remember? Little old hates-fame-attention-glory-anything Harry Potter.

Third year fic, bounces between a horrid attempt at humor and a bunch of more serious themes. Includes powerful and independent Harry, along with Ron and Dumbledore bashing. There will probably be some Sirius bashing as well, but there's not any, at least right now. This fic is not meant to be taken seriously. I'm well aware that Harry is probably really OOC, but I don't really care, but I think I kept enough hesitancy and pain to make it really Harry. Although, really, in all honesty, I wrote the first twelve thousand in one day because I was brain-dead and stuck on my current original fiction story thing. So, have a laugh, have a cry, and don't think this story is anything worth talking about.

…insert helicopter introductory nature shot…

The Magic in Ordinary

Chapter One

Meeting with Professors

The office was full of interesting creatures. Books lined nearly three full walls of the small room. Professor Lupin sat at his desk, blinking down at the little boy across from him. "Professor," Harry said, "I need to fight the dementors. I need to be able to resist them." Harry wasn't making eye contact with him. He didn't want to admit to weakness. The poor child...

"I am no expert at the only spell that can stop them, Harry," Professor Lupin said, "but I can teach you what I know." It was only two weeks into the school year. Harry had looked haunted and grim ever since the train ride, ever since he had known the boy. Lupin still struggled to figure out why no one did anything. Was it ordinary for Harry to look like this? So haunted and grim and old beyond his years? It was early morning on the Saturday after their second defense lesson. "Tell me, Harry, what do you know of emotion-based magic?"

Harry hesitated. His fingernail bit into the wood of the hardback chair. His feet just whispered over the threads in the soft brown carpet. "I know emotions can make magic stronger. Some spells work best if the caster is angry, especially curses. Professor Flitwick said we'd study emotion-spells after the OWLs."

"Precisely. The spell that protects against dementors is an emotion based spell, and a difficult one at that," Professor Lupin said. "It will be difficult for you to learn."

"I need to learn it, Professor," Harry whispered, his tone of voice low, desperate, pleading.

"Very well." Lupin stood. He fought to keep his face blank of emotion as this boy, his best friend's child, looked so utterly broken and despondent. What had Harry heard when he came in contact with the dementor? What had scared him to such a degree? The professor walked around his desk and stood next to Harry's chair. The boy looked up at him, green eyes full with the type of determination that comes only from necessity. "The incantation is expecto patronum." Harry repeated the words. "Again." Harry repeated the words. "Translate."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Um—"

Lupin turned to his bookshelves, scanning the rows for the books on introductory Latin. He really wished it was possible to amend bits and pieces of the Hogwarts curriculum. It would make teaching so much easier. Ah. There it was. Professor Lupin pulled down a book of introductory Latin and placed it on his desk, in front of Harry. "I advise you to take up Latin, Harry. Extra languages are always beneficial." Something flirted through Harry's eyes and his determination hardened. "Now, the Patronus Charm is much more difficult in the presence of a dementor, but let's start without." Lupin took out his wand and cast the spell. A small, silvery, cat-like creature circled the air around Harry's chair. The polecat bounded through the hair, leaving behind a trail of sparkling silver magic.

"You try. Think of a happy memory; a memory you would never want to give up, and focus on that memory while you cast the spell," Lupin said. Doubts ran through his head. He should have reassured Harry that he wouldn't achieve it quickly. He should have told Harry that it was a difficult, difficult, beyond possible for a thirteen-year-old. He should have- Harry pulled out his wand, jumped out of his chair and swallowed. He stared at the polecat for a few moments before raising his wand.

"Expecto patronum." There was no hesitation in Harry's voice, no doubt or worry or fear. A silvery mist poured from Harry's wand, twisted and convulsed until what could only be a colt appeared amongst the mist. Lupin blinked and forced himself not to stumble back. How? The colt raised its head and stared at its caster. Seconds passed. A swirl of green intermixed through the mix until it melted into the colt's eyes. Seconds passed. Green eyes stared at boy and professor from the silvery colt. The polecat dissipated when Lupin lost control of his spell. Harry turned and looked at Lupin, relief clear on his face. "That's the spell?"

Lupin opened his mouth to answer. He really did. No sound came out.

Harry looked confused. The colt stepped forward and nuzzled him. Harry reached up and stroked the Patronus's nose. It was truly corporal. Lupin made a hissed, whispered noise of disbelief. How? Harry looked at him again, "Professor?"

"That shouldn't be possible," Lupin said, "and yet you did it. Cancel the spell, Harry. Let's see if you can do it again."

Harry canceled the spell and the silvery colt dissipated into the air with a flurry of mist. A look of sadness crossed Harry's face. He raised his wand again, focused again on that memory, and whispered the spell again. "Expecto patronum." It took less than seconds this time, for the silver colt to bound from Harry's wand and fill the office with a pale, moonlight look. This time, however, the colt did not have green eyes. How? The question rang through Lupin's head as he stared down at the little third-year. Harry was probably capable of a lot of things.

"Very... very good, Harry," Lupin managed to say. "We'll have to test it against a dementor to see if it stands, but I've never... I've never seen someone cast that spell on the first try. I'll try and find a boggart for us to use."

Harry's eyes sparkled. "Thank you Professor." His focused was fixed on the colt. "The patronus... do you name them? Are they like familiars, in a way? Can you have multiple?"

Lupin blinked. "You can name them, if you want. Familiars, no, not really. And I've never heard of anyone having multiple patroni." Had something just unleashed a flood of curiosity from the boy? Every moment he seemed more like Lily than James.

"Oh," Harry said, as if that solved everything. He lowered the want and the colt disappeared. "Thank you, Professor."

"I'll let you know when I've a boggart available, Harry," Professor Lupin said, "In... in the meantime, study the Latin book and see if you can translate the spell for me."

Harry nodded, grabbed the book, and exited the defense professor's office.

Lupin collapsed back in his chair with a sigh.

Harry James Potter was something else.

o.o.o.o.o.o

It took Harry a few minutes to figure out what to do next. He wanted to run and tell someone about the Patronus... Lupin had said it was really hard, but, that didn't seem right. Besides, Ron and Hermione were in the middle of another fight. He wanted to go tell Professor Sinistra of his triumph, as she had been particularly encouraging last year and everything. He could tell Professor Flitwick though; emotion-based charms and spells were supposed to be really hard. But summoning the colt was almost easy. All he needed to do was think of flying, and think of how great the wind felt as it blew through and over him, how it felt to be so free in the sky. Harry loved to fly. He could go to Professor McGonagall, and ask about the Divination problem. He didn't want to spend the next five years having his death predicted by that professor.

Well, seeing Professor McGonagall was a must. The rest could wait. Harry meandered through the hallways. It was Saturday. Most everyone was outside or back in their common rooms, playing games and such-like. It took him five minutes to reach Professor McGonagall's office, which was equidistant between the Transfiguration classrooms and the Gryffindor common room. When Harry knocked, McGonagall looked up, "Just a moment, Mr. Potter." She was at her desk, talking with an older Gryffindor that Harry only sort of recognized. It was a girl in Oliver's year.

He retreated from the doorway and stood against the wall. His mind raced through a number of possible names for his colt. Something to do with flying. Flyaway? Windracer? Nothing fit. Maybe Hedwig would have some ideas when she visited this evening. He pulled the book on Latin out from his over the shoulder back and started actually reading the foreword. One thing for sure, he was not excited at learning another language. It took a few moments, but the girl stepped through the threshold and smiled down at him. She had a nice smile. "Hey, Mr. Potter. Professor McGonagall can see you now."

"Thanks, but it's Harry, um-" He really wished he knew her name. He really only knew the Quidditch team or people in his own year. That should probably be rectified, fast.

"Emma MacDonald," she said, sticking out a hand. "Seventh year. I've got a sister a year ahead of you, though. Apparently, the fourth years talk about you quite a bit."

They shook hands. Harry searched desperately for someway of not showing how awkward that made him feel. Humor? Well, that probably worked. "I'll have to tell Katie to back off then. The Quidditch girls are such gossips." Apparently, it worked. Emma laughed before turning and heading for the Gryffindor common room. She seemed like a nice person. Yeah, Harry thought, he really should meet new people, and this was probably the perfect year to do it. Hopefully. If nothing else when drastically wrong. This Black business was enough. Harry stepped into McGonagall's office.

She offered him a tight lipped smile. "What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry swallowed. "Two things, actually. Is it possible for me to switch out of Divination? If it's not... I don't..."

Understanding seemed to cross McGonagall's face. "Of course. You wouldn't be that far behind in whatever class you'd choice to switch into. And I dare say Miss Granger will help you catch up. Do you have any idea as to what you'd rather take?"

Yes, but he'd rather get her opinion. "What would you suggest, Professor? I grew up with Muggles, so I don't really think Muggle Studies would be the best option."

A true grin crossed McGonagall's face. "The best option for you really depends on what you're interested in. Ancient Runes requires a lot of memorization, and is very beneficial when it comes to warding, rituals, and the supply of power, all very important things in the adult life. Arithmancy is the math behind magic. It is closely linked into spell creation and other aspects of what magic truly is. What do you think most interests you?"

"Um," Harry paused. "The thing is, Professor, is it just seems like danger seems to find me. And with Professor Quirrel first year, and the basilisk after that, I just... want to be prepared. I'd want to take both classes, but I don't want to give of Care of Magical Creatures." It took a lot to admit that. Harry was aware this would be problematic. It would probably get Ron mad at him. It would probably make Hermione overly joyful. It would change his entire study habits.

"Many Ravenclaws and a few others take three additional classes instead of two," Professor McGonagall said, her grin still in place. That was slightly unnerving. "Three is the limit for students whose names are not Hermione Granger, two is just a minimum. It would be difficult, and your course load would radically change, if you want me to move you into both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy."

"Please," Harry said. It had worked. Hermione would be so proud... Eeeeek. Professor McGonagall pulled out pieces of paper from her desk and wrote something down on two pieces. She folded the parchment and handed them to Harry. He was worried though. This additional coursework would be challenging. And... what would they think if he managed to break the grading habit? He always dumbed down his grades. It's the only way he survived Dudley. But Dudley wasn't here. Dudley couldn't hurt him anymore.

"You'll be moved into Arithmancy during your previous Divination class period. And you'll take Ancient Runes during a few of your study periods. Due to the scheduling nature of Ancient Runes, it's a mix of all four houses, and still a small class. Neville Longbottom is in that class, however." That made sense; he had been wondering where Neville was their last study period. "These notes are for Professors Babbling and Vector, who teach Runes and Arithmancy respectively. They'll be expecting you some time before lunch today so you discuss what needs to be done before you join their classes next week. And your other question?"

Oh. Right. He'd almost forgotten about that. Or at least, forgotten that he was going to admit he needed help. That really, really hurt, the whole needing thing. "I- I need help. Back in primary school... uh… Muggle school... I'd... I never let myself get better grades than my cousin. And... um... I really need to break that habit. Can you... um... may you... I guess, I guess I just need someone to keep me on track." Professor McGonagall was staring. Okay. Yes. That was really unnerving. "I know I can do it," Harry continued, "but, Hermione's never been successful in getting me to work and I just thought... maybe you'd be able to help."

"Of course, Harry," McGonagall said. He immediately noticed her use of his name. "Perhaps you'd like to set up weekly meetings so that we can make sure you stay on track, grade-wise and study-wise?"

Harry nodded. "That would be great. Professor Sinistra said she'd help me too, if you get too busy-"

"It's no problem, Harry," McGonagall said, her eyebrows creeping upward. Since when had Harry been close with Aurora? "Why don't you come back here next week, around this same time?" Harry nodded. "Before you go, Mr. Potter, could you perhaps cast a Transfiguration spell? Perhaps the spell we worked on in class yesterday?" Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at a scrap of parchment on the professor's desk. They had been during mostly review stuff, changing inanimate objects into other inanimate objects. The spell came to mind instantly, and he cast it instantly, utterly determined that it would work. And it did. A spell that he had seemingly struggled with yesterday simply worked. That felt good. McGonagall's eyebrows stayed high. "Well, thank you, Mr. Potter. I'd suggest you head straight to one of the other professors now."

Harry nodded, but he really wanted to go see Flitwick or Sinistra. But they could wait. They really, really could wait. "Thanks Professor." He left her office.

Professor McGonagall watched him go, a pure, gleeful smile on his face. He'd managed that Transfiguration perfectly. Thank Merlin, Harry might be more like his father than she had thought. One thing was for sure, she'd hold him to a much higher standing now.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Hermione had told him exactly where the offices of her other professors were, so Harry had no trouble locating those offices. He went to Professor Babbling first. The man was rather old, balding, with gray tuffs of hair around his ears. His eyes had a certain sparkle to them, and his office was filled with more books than Professor Lupin's. He wore a simple, brown robe with blue lining. A bronze raven perched on his desk. That was slightly creepy.

"McGonagall said you're dropping Divination," Babbling said, before even greeting him with a name or anything. "Good. Good. You aren't that far behind, just a couple of chapters in the textbook in a few basic rules. Read chapters one through five by Tuesday, and look over this packet here. Here's a supply list. And here's a set of school supplies that you can use until you owl order your own. There's not much else you need, eh Mr. Potter? We've only had a few classes, and I'm sure you'll catch up just fine. Now run along, I'm sure you don't want to be talking to an old professor on a Saturday morning, eh?"

He had said that very, very fast, in a very, very congenial manner. Harry liked the old professor. He slipped the school textbook, the packet of parchment, and what looked to be a set of writing utensils into his shoulder bag. The bag was a lot heavier than it was when he went to meet with Professor Lupin... Professor Babbling shooed him out of his office with a few more congenial tangents about the weather. He certainly fit his last name.

o.o.o.o.o.o

It was around eleven o'clock when Harry showed up in Professor Vector's office. The office looked a lot like McGonagall's did, in terms of just blank nothingness. But Vector was nothing like McGonagall at all. She wore bright colors and her hair was died bright green. She was younger than most professors, and looked like she just liked having fun. It was a little scary, actually. And she wasn't at all as cool as Professor Babbling. She was, um, rather starstruck and it took her a few moments to overcome that.

"Harry Potter," she kept saying, whenever she had a chance to say his name. "Harry Potter. What do you know about math?"

"I'm pretty good at Muggle math," Harry said, nervously taking the seat she pointed to. "But I don't know how that relates to-"

"It's good!" Vector crowed. "I spend most of the first two weeks explaining simple rules of numbers to the ignoramus of the wizarding brood." Okay. Vector was obviously muggleborn. "Addition. Subtraction. Multiplication. Division. Fractions. Percents. Decimals. We just started basic geometry last class period. Um..." She shuffled through a mass of papers on her desk. "I had a pretest for you, somewhere... Ah! Here it is." She pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Harry. "Take this and I'll see if I need to give you any catch up work." She handed him a quill and conjured a small table and desk. That was a really cool piece of magic.

For the next twenty minutes, Harry answered simple mathematics questions, like what is six times eight? or if Jenny has six brooms and the Malfoy's buy three, how many brooms does Jenny have? Harry found it fascinating how iconic the name Malfoy was across all borders. That could just have been Vector's own eccentricities, but he doubted it. Some of the geometry problems, Harry didn't understand, but he was pretty confident that he had answered all of them to the best of his ability. He gave the test back to the professor and remained seated while she looked through it.

"Looks good," Vector said. "I'll give you a school textbook if you want to do some own reading, but you'll be fine jumping straight into class. You should owl-order your own book or buy one from an older student. I look forward to having you in my class, Harry Potter." Well, at least starstruck and eccentric was better than Trelawney. Harry accepted the proffered book and headed for Professor Flitwick's office. If he hurried, he could probably make it before lunch.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Professor Flitwick was working in his classroom with what looked to be a couple of first year Ravenclaws on a very basic spell. Oh, Ravenclaws. Harry stood to the side until Flitwick noticed him. The diminutive professor gestured Harry to go on through to his office while he instructed the little Ravenclaws to keep working. Harry collapsed into one of the plush chairs on Flitwick's room and looked around in contentment. He liked Flitwick's office. It was a really comforting place. He pulled out the Latin textbook again and finished reading the foreword. This was really not going to be fun.

In a few moments, Professor Flitwick joined him in the office. "And what can I do for you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry folded the book closed and slipped in back into his bag. "I wanted to ask you about emotion-based magic," Harry started, forcing himself to be honest. "I- I had some problems with the dementors, and I went to Professor Lupin and he said he could teach me the Patronus charm."

Flitwick's eyes widened. "That is a very advanced charm, Mr. Potter, perhaps-"

Harry looked down. "I did it on my first try."

Flitwick stared.

Harry pulled out his wand and prayed that this would work. He really needed someone's opinion on this whole thing. "Expecto patronum," Harry said, focusing on the feeling of flying. Calm washed over him and out sprung the silver colt with green eyes, as bright and happy as the moon. It felt really, really good. Professor Flitwick squeaked and fell backwards, falling to the ground in a startled heap of charms master. It was a little amusing, actually. Harry grinned.

Professor Flitwick pulled himself to his feet and stared at the third year in front of him. "You did a corporal patronus on your first try?" He looked like he was going to hyperventilate.

"Yes Professor," Harry said. He wanted to fidget. He forced himself to stay calm.

Flitwick stared. "Um. Okay. You did this because you've been having problems with the dementors. Interesting. Let's see. There is an incantation I want you to try. Orchideous. It is an emotion-based spell designed to produce a bunch of flowers. Your emotions relate directly to the type of flowers produced. Give it a try."

Harry stared blankly at his wand. He knew flowers well enough, from gardening and Herbology and such-like. His aunt had always liked her red roses and her petunia plants. Roses. Roses. Red roses always connected with love, but they had sharp thorns and they bit at his fingers. And then there were lilies, but he didn't know a lot of lilies. Harry focused in on the pain his fingers felt when he dealt with roses. "Orchideous." He closed his eyes this time, trying to visualize the roses better. When he opened his eyes, two discolored roses lay at his feet with full stems and oversized thorns.

He looked at his professor, only to see that the charms professor was holding in a smirk of mirth. "Have some bad experiences with roses, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"That is an extremely good result for your first time with that spell, Mr. Potter. If you are interested, we could definitely work with some more emotion-based magic, as extra course work. You seem to have a great aptitude for it." Flitwick picked up the two limp looking roses and laid them on his desk.

"Um," Harry said, "uh. I'd like that, but I just dropped Divination and took on a Ravenclaw course load, so I'm not sure-"

Flitwick smirked. "Whenever you're free, Mr. Potter. Whenever you're free. That's a pretty standard policy for the Ravens."

"Thanks, Professor."