CHAPTER THREE
When I awoke the next day, it took me a while to remember where I was. My heart sank with a sort of inevitable dread as I remembered; it was my first day at Hogwarts. Light was streaming in through a gap in my curtains, but the silence from the rest of the room told me that the other girls were still asleep. I dressed silently, hating the unfamiliarity of the Hogwarts uniform. No matter how many times I picked and pulled at it in the mirror, I couldn't get myself to look presentable.
Giving up entirely, I went downstairs and out of the common room, with the intention of finding Remus. I wanted some sort of familiarity; something comforting perhaps, and I thought that I would definitely find it from him. There was certainly nothing familiar about the stone castle of Hogwarts!
I hadn't gone further than down the stairs from the portrait of the fat lady, when, not really looking where I was going, I bumped into a figure.
"Oh, sorry," I muttered, going to side step them, but when I looked into their face I felt a stab of recognition. It was Severus Snape; the man who brought Remus' Wolfsbane potion every month.
I was so glad to see somebody I recognised, just a hint of familiarity in this strange, new place, I flashed him a massive smile and waved enthusiastically.
"Hi!" I said, loudly.
If looks could kill, I thought, I would most certainly be dead on the floor after the look of pure hatred and disgust that passed over Severus Snape's face. Nobody had ever looked at me with such dislike before, and it almost shocked me. Almost.
Snape said nothing in reply to my over-enthusiastic greeting, but merely swept past me in a cloud of hatred. Watching his retreating figure, and feeling my breathing slowing back to normal, I realised my heart had been beating very fast. Gosh, I thought as I made my way down to breakfast, Hogwarts was turning me practically faint-hearted.
My plan to find Remus had been abandoned, as I decided he would probably already be at breakfast and, sure enough, when I entered the Great Hall, I picked out Remus's shabby robes against the shiny ones of the other teachers up at the teachers' table immediately. There were several students already seated at their respective house tables, tucking into platefuls of sausages and toast. But I wasn't interested in food at that moment; I just wanted to talk to Remus.
I marched defiantly up the middle of the hall to the table. Remus was in deep conversation with a witch who had short, dark hair, and didn't see me. I was not ten feet away, when my path was blocked by somebody. I looked up into the face of Professor McGonagall, who I recognised from the previous night.
"Miss Black," she said "May I ask what you are doing?" She stared, piercingly down at me.
Not going to be indimidated by her, I lifted my head high. "I wanted to talk to Re-um, to Professor Lupin." I corrected myself quickly.
"That may be. Students, however, do not have permission to come up to the teacher's table whenever they please for a mere chit chat. If you want to speak with Professor Lupin, you must wait and visit him in his office."
I opened my mouth, outraged. Remus was practically my father, didn't this woman know this? I felt like a child that was being scolded, and did not like it one bit.
"But..." I began, but McGonagall cut me off.
"Not buts! I know things are a little different for you, Miss Black, but you must respect the Hogwarts school rules. Now, get yourself breakfasted and sorted for class immediately, please, before I dock points from Gryffindor."
With that, McGonagall swept past me, leaving me stood dumbstruck. I debated with myself whether to defy her; what did I care about house points anyway? But, I thought better of it as I saw Professor Dumbledore enter the hall and take his seat; even I knew it would be inappropriate to break rules in front of him.
Huffing, I turned to the Gryffindor table, and slumped down in a chair. A burly boy, who looked about seventeen shot me a smile. He had deep brown eyes and hair, and for some reason I felt myself grow rather warm and flustered as I attempted a smile back, though this action was thwarted by the appearance of McGonagall at my shoulder.
"Ah, Miss Black. I'm glad you've found yourself in the right place now."
I scowled. Didn't McGonagall realise I was trying to make a good impression on this older male student?
"I've just come to give you your timetable," continued McGonagall, obviously not realising this. "How you expected to know which lessons you had without one was beyond me, but nevertheless, here it is. You've got potions first, alright? I trust you can find your way to the dungeons?"
I continued to scowl at her. It wasn't my fault I didn't have my timetable yet. "Yes." I muttered.
McGonagall grimaced. "Excellent. Now, Wood," she said, addressing the boy sat opposite me. "I was thinking you'd want to be starting Quidditch training as soon as possible, so I've booked the pitch for this afternoon."
"Great, fantastic Professor," said the boy in a Scottish accent. My stomach did some sort of weird flutter that I put down to hunger.
McGonagall nodded curtly before sweeping off down the hall. I was about to strike up a conversation with this Wood boy, when I heard my name being called.
"Ruby, Ruby!" I turned to see who it was. As far as I was aware, no one knew who I was here.
It was Hermione Granger. Closely followed, I noted, by Harry Potter and the ginger boy; something Weasley?
"We didn't see you here, Ruby. I wondered where you'd got to this morning," said Hermione.
"Oh, really?" I said, trying to sound interested "Well, I came down here early to get my timetable." This was a lie, of course, but Hermione didn't need to know that.
She beamed at me. Anyone that took a keen interest in lessons was obviously a friend of hers.
"Potter," said the Scottish Wood, suddenly "We'll be starting Quidditch practice first thing this afternoon, alright?"
Potter nodded, keenly. "Fantastic." He said.
My ears pricked up. I was a Quidditch fan, even if I didn't play it myself. I had my father's old broom; an ancient model called a Florence Five Hundred. I'd brought it to Hogwarts with me, although had no intention of riding it; it was so old and battered I would become the laughing stock of the school. My dad had scratched S Black into the handle and, although I had scratched over it with Ruby, you could still see what was written underneath.
"You play Quidditch?" I asked, bursting out suddenly.
Potter looked sheepish. "Um, yeah." He said.
"What position?" I almost demanded.
"Seeker," he said.
At this moment, Wood extended a hand out to me. "Oliver Wood," he said "Captain and Keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team."
Apprehensively, I shook his hand, but he was smiling at me. "Play Quidditch yourself?" he asked.
I knew that Oliver Wood was just making conversation, but I didn't want to talk about myself, and I suddenly felt that I had said too much already, which was ridiculous as I hadn't said anything at all.
"No," I said, shortly. "I'm just interested, that's all."
With that, I stood up from the table, abandoning any thought of breakfast, and walked towards the doors to the entrance hall.
"She is crazy that one," I heard someone say. The Weasley boy I think it was.
"Oh, come on," I heard Oliver Wood speaking. "Give her time to settle in!"
For some reason, this left a small smile playing on my lips as I pulled out my map, and set off in the direction of the dungeons.