"There, look."
"Where?"
"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."
"Which one?"
"In between the blood traitors."
"Wearing the glasses?"
"Did you see his face?"
"Did you see his scar?"
Vesta noticed that whispers would follow Harry the moment she left her dormitory and joined him and Ron the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at Harry, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Vesta found it extremely annoying. They were trying to get to their classes, after all!
If Vesta had to name something she hated about Hogwarts, it definitely would've been Argus Filch. Vesta, Ron, and Harry managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.
Of course, the History of Magic teacher was a close second. During his class, she would struggle to keep her eyes open, despite the fact that the teacher was a ghost, Professor Binns. But that seemed to be the only thing interesting (if you could call it interesting) thing about the class.
Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.
Professor McGonagall was again different. Vesta had definitely been right in the sense that she could be intimidating. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they 107 weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione 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 huge 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 Finnigan 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.
Vesta was glad that Harry was relieved when he found out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. Vesta insisted that there was so much to learn that even people like herself and Ron didn't have much of a head start.
Friday was an important day for Harry, Ron, and Vesta. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.
"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.
"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them - we'll be able to see if it's true."
"Wish McGonagall favored us, " Harry grumbled. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.
Just then, the mail arrived. About a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.
Vesta noticed that, along the usual sweets, she had gotten a letter. It was most likely a response to the letter she had sent the second day.
Dear Vesta,
Even though I must confess that I am disappointed in your house, I am obligated to
congratulate you for getting into Gryffindor. As much as I detested the house and those
in it in my school days, I cannot do that to my own daughter, now can I? If you do not
do anything rash while in Gryffindor, I will not be upset with you. However, I am very
disappointed that you almost got into a fight with Draco Malfoy. You should know better
than to act brashly like that.
Also, as far as your concerns with the Weasley boy. Even though I may detest his
father, I feel no reason to force you to no longer be friends with Weasley. As for
meeting the Potter boy, that is interesting. I want you to continue being friends with him,
no matter what. Do you understand?
Sincerely,
Father
Vesta frowned at the crypticness of the letter. She scribbled down on a spare piece of parchment.
Father,
Yes, sir, I understand. I apologize for getting into a fight with Draco. I will do my best to prevent it from happening again.
Vesta
Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity." Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had y caught every word - like Professor 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."
More silence followed this little speech. Harry, Ron, and Vesta exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry glanced at Ron, both of them looked stumped; Hermione's hand had shot into the air. Vesta's hand nervously rose into the air, shaking slightly.
"I don't know, sit," said Harry.
Snape's lips curled into a sneer.
"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything." He ignored Hermione's and Vesta's hands.
"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't seem to have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. His eyes avoided Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter. Vesta scowled at them, ignoring the promise she made her father.
"I don't know, sir."
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Harry kept looking straight into those cold eyes. Vesta wanted to yell about how unfair he was being. Harry just got into the magical world! He couldn't have been expected to know everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi!
Snape was still ignoring both Hermione's and Vesta's quivering hands.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.
"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione and Vesta do, though, why don't you try them?"
A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus's eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.
"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "And stop shaking," he ordered Vesta, which resulted in her attempting to hold back tears and putting her hand down. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for 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?"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."
Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors 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, even though Hermione and Vesta's had done their's perfect. It even looked exactly like Malfoy's! Snape 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.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.
"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." Vesta looked at Harry and Ron with sympathy, eyes still red from holding back tears.
This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.
"Don't push it," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."
As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Vesta noticed Harry looked extremely gloomy. She felt sorry for him. Snape blamed him for things he couldn't control! If Malfoy had done the exact same things he had done, Snape would've praised him! "Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"
"Can I come as well?" Vesta asked. Harry nodded.
At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.
When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang - back." Vesta was beginning to regret asking to come.
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 the 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 Vesta and started licking her ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked. Vesta laughed. Despite not having one, Vesta loved dogs. She loved animals in general, but dogs were a personal favorite.
"This is Ron and Vesta," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.
"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest." He looked a Vesta, "Blishwick, right? Knew yer father. Quite a troublemaker that one was," Hagrid said. Vesta would've scoffed, had it not been impolite. Her father, a trouble maker? Please.
The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Harry, Ron, and Vesta pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.
The three of them were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."
"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Filch puts her up to it."
Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.
"But he seemed to really hate me."
"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"
Vesta noticed that Hagrid didn't quite meet Harry's eyes when he said that.
"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot - great with animals." Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet. Vesta looked over his shoulder and read:
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 spokesgoblin this afternoon.
Vesta remembered her parents talked about that, and Ron mentioning it on the train.
"Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"
There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake.
