Eiry Potter
The Stone Forged from Death
For this chapter and all those that follow, I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY! I do however own the purchased works of all the books, ebooks, audio books (Jim Dale's version) and movies. I, however, am currently struggling to open a Pottermore account (stupid beta site).
Also, Eiry will have a stutter when she's scared, ONLY when she's scared.
"This, bold + italic, will be used for Parseltongue."
Chapter 3 – Lessons are a Drag
There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other and Eiry was sure the coats of armor could walk.
That was what it felt like on during the first week at school, Eiry was also getting fairly annoyed at the whispers that followed her around, most of which were either on how small she was or about her alleged ways of triumph over Voldemort. Ron had adopted his brotherly side and tried to shield Eiry from the prying eyes, Hermione not far behind.
Hermione and Ron didn't get along at all, Ron always said Hermione was too bossy and Hermione said Ron was too lax. The only time they almost got along was while shielding Eiry. Eiry really didn't like it, Ron was her adoptive brother and they got along just fine. Hermione on the other hand was so much different from Lavender and Pavarti that they got along just fine in the dorm.
Getting to class was bad enough without getting lost or running into a ghost, although Nick always tried to help the Gryffindor student whenever he could. And then there was the classes themselves. It was more then just waving a wand and saying some words. Eiry knew this but she couldn't fathom how much more there were.
They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learnt how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and found out what they were used for.
Easily the most boring lesson was History of Magic, which was the only class taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff-room fire and got up next morning to teach and leaving his body behind him, Eiry still believed that no-one else wanted the job. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.
Prof. Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. He started class by taking register, when he got to Eiry's name he toppled over with an excited squeak.
Then was came the class Eiry was most interested in, transfiguration. Prof. McGonagall was different from the other teachers and Eiry noticed very different from the woman she met earlier that summer.
"Transfiguration might be some of the most difficult magic you will learn at this school." McGonagall said in barely more then a whisper. "Anyone messing around in my class will not be allowed to return. You have been warned."
McGonagall then turned her desk into a pig and back again. The children were impressed at the display but quickly deflated when McGonagall told them it'll be a while before they would be able to do that. Eiry's mind drifted to the book in my trunk, Most Advanced Transfiguration – From Teacups to Animagus and Substitute Metamorphic Changes, she skimmed through it and only as she took notes did she realize what McGonagall meant when she said one per year.
At the end of class only Eiry and Hermione made headway in transfiguring the match into a needle. Eiry's was the exact shape and form of a needle but still made of wood, Hermione's was pointed and metal but still the size of the match. McGonagall rewarded them with a rare smile.
The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnegan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.
Friday started out to be a great day. For once Eiry wasn't completely lost on her way to the Great Hall. They also had double potions that morning and the afternoon off. As per usual the mail arrived that morning by owl. Eiry didn't expect any mail yet since she has yet to write to Ginny. So she was greatly surprised that Hedwig flew down with a letter in her beak, it read:
Dear Eiry
Now I knows you'd be wondering why I'd be writing to you, the truth is I'm asking meself that same question. Anyways come down to my hut this afternoon for a spot of tea, or not. Let us know with Hedwig.
Hagrid
Eiry scribbled a note on the same parchment: I'd love that, and sending Hedwig off. While the students were still entering Eiry finished her breakfast and walked up to the High Table were McGonagall also started getting up.
"Prof. McGonagall," Eiry asked unsure.
"Yes Miss Potter," McGonagall answered politely.
"I was wondering if I could use your classroom, on the afternoons that I'm off, to do my private transfiguration studies?"
"I can not allow you to use my class, Miss Potter. But I will ask the headmaster if you could use an open classroom. I'll have an answer for you by next week." McGonagall gave a half-smile.
Eiry had a feeling that Prof. Snape didn't like her ever since she followed the wire back to him at the start of term banquet. It turned out she wasn't too far off with that assessment. Snape began class by taking register like most others did, he paused with a sneer when he reached Eiry's name.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began after putting the register away. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Prof. McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses ... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Eiry smiled as she was secretly looking forward to this class, Snape obviously mistook it for ignorance.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"Powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood," Eiry whispered to herself, "That makes the Draught of Living Death, a powerful sleeping potion, sir."
"Let's try another. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Snape was clearly taken aback.
"I think you'll find it in the stomach of a goat?" Eiry was a bit uncertain about this one.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"I don't know what monkshood is yet sir, so I can't answer that one sir." Eiry said dropping her head. She thought that One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi were only used in Herbology and thus only started reading it, two pages mind you, the previous night.
"Well two out of three isn't too bad, but you failed to mention the purpose of a bezoar, one point from Gryffindor." Snape said a smirk on his face. "Monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" he snapped at the class.
Things didn't improve for the Gryffindor students as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
Eiry and Hermione was sitting in front of the duo and Snape seemed to notice it right away. After telling Seamus to take Neville to the hospital wing he rounded on Eiry and Hermione.
"You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor." Snape said completely forgoing logic.
"Sir," Eiry hissed through gritted teeth. "If I turned around I would've left our potion. I don't have eyes at the back of my head you know!" then as an afterthought, "Sir."
"Detention Monday night, Potter." Snape said with a triumphant smirk. He finally got what he was aiming for the whole morning.
At around three, Eiry started to get ready to go to Hagrid's, she has just written a letter to Ginny telling her about the first week of term and was planning on sending Hedwig to The Burrow after meeting with Hagrid. As she exited the common room she bumped into Hermione who was clutching a few books to her chest.
"Where are you going?" Hermione asked barely able to contain the curiosity.
"Down to Hagrid's, he invited me to tea. And then I'm going to owl this to Ginny." Eiry took out the letter from her skirt pocket.
"Can I come? A spot of tea sounds like the most normal thing in this entire castle. I love magic don't get me wrong but as a muggle-born it is a bit overwhelming." Hermione gestured to the books she was carrying.
"You're picking up more books than what's necessary." Eiry said as they went down to the east wing. Hagrid's hut was just beyond them on the edge of the forbidden forest.
"What do you mean?" Hermione was defensive.
"When I was saved by Prof. McGonagall and taken to get my books and stuff I wanted to get a copy of every book in Flourish and Blotts." Eiry started, "But Prof. McGonagall said I should choose ONE per year for self study. I picked transfiguration."
"That's actually a good idea, but there's so much to learn." Hermione defended. It wasn't until they reached Hagrid's hut and Eiry promised to include Hermione in her self study that Hermione agreed to cut down on studying but not reading.
When Eiry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying,
"Back, Fang – back."
Hagrid's big hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.
"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang." He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.
There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling. A copper kettle was boiling on the open fire and in a corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.
"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Hermione and started licking her ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.
"This is Hermione," Eiry said introducing her friend, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you face to face."
Hagrid placed a large teapot on the flame and a plate of rock cakes on the table. He asked the girls about their week and what subjects they liked. What they didn't like and what they were planning to do after Hogwarts. A few cups of tea down and still trying to bite down on the rock cakes, 6 o'clock rolled by quite too fast.
As Hagrid waved them of he assured her that Snape and Filch had their reasons for doing what they did. He didn't tell them why though. Eiry asked Hagrid if he was finished with the news paper. He gave it with a smile.
Back in the common room Eiry unfolded the news paper and read the front page article.
GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown.
Gringotts' goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.
"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokes-goblin this afternoon.
"Now that is odd," Eiry said to Hermione and Ron who was waiting for them in the common room. "It happened on my birthday, I overheard Prof. Dumbledore mention the break-in, and that vault isn't far from the Potter vault. I wonder what was in it."
"No idea," said Ron.
"I could probably…" Eiry paused, "I forgot to owl my letter to Ginny."
Eiry speeded out of the dorm excusing herself as she ran passed other kids down to the owlery. Eiry arrived at the owlery out of breath. She scanned the rows and rows of owls until she saw a flock of white amongst them, the only problem was that Hedwig was at the very top. Eiry sighed as she started to climb the stairs.
At the top Eiry met a girl who was struggling to get an owl to trust her. It seemed that, like people, owls were picky. The girl, to Eiry's best guess was a second year student, maybe third year. She was of Asian decent, like Su Li from Eiry's year.
"I guess they're a bit picky," Eiry smiled at the girl, "Lucky I got my own for my birthday." Eiry called for Hedwig. "The Burrow girl, this is for Ginny."
"My parents are allergic to feathers, I think they sense that." her accent was a heavy Scottish much like Prof. McGonagall's.
"I'm Eiry," Eiry said holding out a hand. The girl took it rather reluctantly.
"I kinda noticed," she said with a slight blush, "Every one up in the castle are always pointing you out, my name is Cho Chang."
"Nice to meet you, would you like me to help you get an owl?" Eiry said feeling her cheeks warm up.
"Yes please," Cho answered gratefully.
The next few minutes was spent with Eiry surveying the different owls, she asked Cho where the letter was going, how much it weighed and so forth. In the end Eiry chose a rather young eagle-owl, a link on its foot said it was a school owl called Gandel. After about a minute of constant praise and whispers Gandel swooped down and allowed Cho to tie the letter to his foot.
"I think you won't have any trouble with Gandel, sending the letters I mean." Eiry blushed as Cho embraced her in a hug.
Eiry was in a trance of sorts as she walked up to the common room, she didn't even bother getting mad when she heard another whisper on her small stature. She gave a gasp of sorts when she was picked up by the elbows and dragged in the opposite direction she was going.
"Common room's this way cutie," came a voice Eiry knew too well.
"She does seem out of it doesn't she," came the other. It was the twins.
"And she's terribly flushed," said Fred.
"Mum's not going to like it that her impromptu daughter's been snogging some bloke," agreed George.
"I've just been to the owlery you daft gits." Eiry defended. "I went down with a bit of a run. Where are you taking me? We just passed the corridor to the common room."
"Oh well you see," Fred began,
"To buy our silence," George continued,
"We decided to," Fred again
"Enlist your services to," George said and both smiled
"Secure us a Hogwarts toilet seat from this bathroom right here." They finished together setting Eiry down in front of the girls' lavatory.
Eiry sighed, she really had no way to argue with the twins as of yet. All the pranks they pulled were confessed to shortly after it was committed. Their grades, from what she heard weren't the best, but it was far from bad so that was also a loss. No, they had nothing on them to cavern as blackmail.
"You just need a toilet seat?" Eiry sighed again, "Be back in a few."
After giving the twins the toilet seat and bidding them: goodbye, Eiry walked up the last flight of stairs. She gave the portrait of the fat lady the password and entered the common room. Eiry went up to fetch some books and came down to sit next to Hermione.
"What are me working on?" Eiry said casually organizing her books according to the timetable.
"The potion essay on the cure for boils we got earlier, I finished the other assignments already." Hermione said still writing.
Eiry drew her potions book closer and started working on it to. About a quarter hour later Eiry heard a gasp from across the table and to her left. She looked up and saw the numerous faces staring at her.
"What?" Eiry said a tad annoyed. "Can't a girl study in peace?"
"Where did you get that book?" Ron asked. He was pointing at Eiry's copy of Most Advanced Transfiguration. "No one under 17 can buy that book."
"It was a gift," Eiry rolled her eyes, filing the information away for later use.
XXXXXXXXXXX
The next morning there was a drone of students over at the notice board, Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday – and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together. Eiry groaned. There were too many people in that house that Eiry disliked. Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy instantly popped into her head.
One thing that irritated Eiry most was that Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first-years never getting in the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories which always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnegan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang-glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared his dormitory, about football. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly.
Neville was never allowed on a broom before and Hermione was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd got out of a library book called Quidditch through the Ages. Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the post. Eiry felt mutual about Hermione, she knew her friend well enough to know she'll try and get everything from a book first.
Hedwig dropped a letter for Eiry, she only vaguely heard Neville telling them about the Remembrall he got from his grandmother. The letter contained a reply from McGonagall giving Eiry permission to practice in a classroom on the sixth floor, including a map to get there.
"What's this?" Eiry was snapped from her letter by the voice of Malfoy.
Before a fight could break out between the Gryffindor boys and Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle McGonagall approached the table.
"What's going on here?" she asked in a louder then usual voice.
"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor," said Neville.
"Just looking," Malfoy said dropping the ball and walking away with Crabbe and Goyle.
That afternoon at around 15h30, the Gryffindor students made their way down the grounds. It was a clear, breezy day and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns towards a smooth lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.
The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Eiry had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. The teacher, Madam Hooch, had short, grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.
"Everyone stand to the left of your brooms, hold out your right hand and say 'Up' with authority." She said as she fastened her gloves.
Eiry eyed the broom next to her with caution. It was very old and the twigs stood out at odd angles. Taking a deep breath she said "Up!" with gusto and the broom sprang into her hand leaving a slight sting to it. Eiry looked around and noticed she was the first one with a broom in hand and that the other brooms were resisting. Hermione and Neville's brooms were the last to rise.
Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows, correcting their grips. Eiry noticed that Ron was delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle, three; two…"
At that moment Neville's broom shot up into the air clumsily. An air of panic raised around him, probably of fear of being left on the ground combined with his reluctance to fly.
"Get back boy," Madam Hooch demanded.
Only the broom seemed to sense its rider didn't want to be there and it retaliated. It shot up climbing higher and higher, it was at around twenty-five feet that Neville lost his grip and nerves and fell to the ground.
"Poor boy's got a broken wrist," Madam Hooch said as she examined Neville. "Come on let's get you to the Hospital Wing.
"And to the rest of you: If I see one broom in the air by the time I come back you will find yourselves out of Hogwarts faster than you could say 'Quidditch', understand?"
No sooner did they leave when the Slytherin House broke into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?" Malfoy snickered and picked up something from the ground. "Maybe if he gave this a squeeze he would've remembered to fall on his fat arse."
"Shut up Malfoy," strangely it was Pavarti Patil who said it first.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, "Never thought you'd like crybabies Pavarti."
"Give that here Malfoy," Eiry said through grit teeth.
"I don't think I will," said Malfoy laxly mounting his broom. "I think I'll leave this somewhere for Longbottom to find, like the roof."
Adrenalin soared threw Eiry and the next thing she knew she was on a broom darting towards Malfoy, she vaguely registered that Hermione tried to stop her. It was a rush like nothing she ever felt before.
"Give it here Malfoy or I'll knock you off your broom and we'll see if your boyfriends can catch you." Eiry said still on her adrenalin high.
"O-oh yeah," Malfoy only then seemed to realize his state of vulnerability, "Catch Potter!" he shouted throwing Neville's Remembrall towards the castle walls.
Eiry didn't know how it happened, but she was speeding towards the invincible ball at top speeds, barely two feet from one of the windows Eiry caught the ball and dove down to avoid the wall. Three feet from the ground Eiry straightened her broom level with the ground and somehow slowed enough to dismount safely. Eiry had no time to celebrate as she stomped her way towards Malfoy, her fists clenched in anger it was only when she pulled back to hit him when she was stopped by McGonagall's voice.
"EIRY POTTER," McGonagall had a neutral expression, "Never in all my years at Hogwarts… You might have broken your neck,"
"It wasn't her fault,"
"Be quiet, Miss Patil"
"But Malfoy"
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."
Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to her. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Eiry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking her to Dumbledore. She thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps she could be Hagrid's assistant.
Finally in the Charms Corridor and Prof. Flitwick's class McGonagall sighed in relieve.
"May I borrow Wood for a moment professor?" McGonagall asked.
Eiry heard the word and cowered into herself and broke down into tears. Wood normally meant beatings, the Dursleys made sure to instill that into Eiry. It didn't come as a shock that Eiry stumbled several feet back and sunk into a corner when the door opened wider.
"Miss Potter this is," McGonagall turned to face Eiry and found her sunken into herself, "Oh my dear girl, did you think… We would never do that, Eiry. This is Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, and this Oliver is your new seeker."
McGonagall couldn't believe her little slip, she told Wood that she would answer his questions later and took Eiry by the shoulders and led her away. Prof. McGonagall took Eiry to her office and started to cook the kettle for tea. After handing the cup, with an added calming draught, she started to talk about the reason Eiry was chosen.
"The last good seeker the Gryffindor team had," she began in a calming voice, "was Charlie Weasley. I believe you'll meet him soon enough. What I saw you do today, I don't believe Charlie would ever even hope to do. You did a thirty foot drop at high speed, followed by a suicide turn on a substandard broom. Not only that but you caught an invincible object around the size of a gobstone."
"I-is t-that a g-good t-thing?" Eiry managed to squeak out after a few sips of tea.
"Eiry that is a wonderful thing. That allows you to be the youngest seeker in a century. Your own father was a seeker but even he wouldn't have been able to do what you did."
"Y-you're j-just s-saying that." Eiry tried to laugh.
McGonagall kept Eiry in her office for the rest of the afternoon going over the old photos and reports on the various teams that wore the Gryffindor red-and-gold. She kept talking about the various matches she attended as a young girl and woman and the various matches she had seen while head of Gryffindor. She even expressed her general disliking of the Slytherin team who won the last seven years since Charlie left. It was only at around 17h00, when Eiry stopped stuttering, that McGonagall dismissed her.
They walked down to the Great Hall together in idle, yet a bit formal, chatter. Eiry told Ron and Hermione all about what happened after she left and that McGonagall wanted to keep it hushed until the first match was played.
"You're kidding," Ron said his steak-and-kidney pie hovered forgotten in his hands almost against his mouth. "First years never get to play. You must be the youngest house player…"
"…in a century, yes," Eiry said smiling, "She says that with me playing we stand an actual chance this year. To tell the truth I was a bit scared and thought that I'd get punished."
"You ought to have, to be honest." Hermione said before adding, "But it makes sense in a weird sort of way. There is real danger every time a match I played, so it's a kind of punishment."
"What do you mean?" Ron resumed eating.
"Well for starters every time you play you are on a broom at least fifty feet from the ground, you could fall. Then there are the, oh what was it again, Bludgers. They zoom around trying to knock players of their brooms. The Quaffle is a big ball that can knock you on the head and disorient you enough to fall." Hermione listed the disadvantages of mostly any sport not just Quidditch.
Friday went by pretty fast and after lunch Eiry made her way to the dormitories to change into something more comfortable, a pair of slacks and a t-shirt, she had enough of skirts and the slacks she got via owl-post on Monday with a letter saying she earned a break. She came across Hermione in the common room and told her to get changed for the private study lessons.
Just under thirty minutes later Eiry and Hermione were in the classroom on the sixth floor. The room was mostly barred from tables instead there were comfortable armchairs in one corner. Prof. McGonagall was waiting in one corner working on marking what appeared to be essays.
"Ah, Miss Potter, I see you brought Miss Granger along," she nodded toward Hermione. "You will find that the room has been stocked with numerous objects that would be considered useful while using transfiguration. I took the liberty of gathering some theoretical books that explain the spells you'll attempt in the book I bought you over the summer. I would suggest going over the theory first before attempting the spells."
After thanking McGonagall Eiry and Hermione went to work on the theory books, after reading the first chapter in Most Advanced Transfiguration. The first hour they spent reading the theories and taking notes in the second they attempted the spells. By the end of two hours they were at least knowledgeable enough to make headway on the spells and could cast the easier ones without trouble.
In the end the second week didn't go too badly, in her letter to Ginny, Eiry wrote about the second week of lessons and about her and Hermione's extra class of private study. She even told Ginny about her inclusion in the Quidditch team and in a bolt gesture told Ginny about the dreams she had, dreams that included Ginny, Luna, Hermione, Cho and herself playing on a bed, Eiry however left out the state of dress, or rather undress, they were in.