Alarm clocks went berserk way too early, and groans erupted throughout the girls' dormitory. Silwen stayed under her covers till all the others had left, and switched into new clothing. No one waited for her. No one bothered to see if she was up. When one was friends with Gryffindors, one has almost no Slytherin friends. But this way, she had a few minutes of cherished solitude before eating breakfast with the masses of students.
Draco was waiting for her in the Common Room. Goyle was there as well. "What happened last night? I waited for you until three in the morning, but I never saw you," he said. Silwen smiled. "I didn't know the password, and went through to the girls' dormitory by means of the house elf passages," she said. "Oh, the password is 'lingus serpentus'. You went through the kitchens? Why? Were you in the office so late?" Silwen nodded.
Her little "accident" many years before wouldn't let her lie, nor be silent. "The meeting was really long. Even though I hardly said a word," Silwen was still bitter about being angrily dismissed without talking to her uncle the previous night, and Draco heard it in her voice. "I'll meet you later. I have no official class first hour, and I've lost my appetite. Meet me in Transfiguration." "Silwen, your uncle loves you. He probably doesn't even realize how harsh he is with you. Don't flare up today with him. Try to forgive him. …I did."
Irritably, Silwen looked at Draco, "As you wish. Have fun at breakfast." And with that, she swept her robes around and headed to the dungeons. "He could have explained. … And I should have went inside the pensive." Her anger shifted from focusing on him to her own stubbornness. "Breathe." She told herself, and as she did so, her muscles smoothed, and she regained a slightly less moody attitude.
She swung the door swiftly open. "Un-Professor Snape! I have arrived." The office door in the back of the room swung open. An elderly, balding man stepped out. Her things fell from her hands, crashing unnoticed to the floor. "Hello. You must be Miss Prince. The Headmaster told me of your special aptitude for potions making. With his new position, he hired me to take his old position, even teaching you." The man chuckled at Silwen's shocked expression. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Professor Lovegood, you know my daughter, Luna." "Er. Professor," she said, trying the word out in her mouth, "Are we going to have a lesson, or shall I go see the Headmaster?" "No, no, by all means, we shall have your private lessons. Come, sit, and we shall start." He gestured absentmindedly to the table closest to the front of the room.
Xenophilius Lovegood? What was her uncle thinking? Silwen gathered her things uncertainly, and moved to the designated desk. Looking for comfort, she cast a glance to the window in the highest corner of the dungeon. A sun peeked through above the mountain like a glowing ember in a hearth, hoping to catch fire.
"So, open your book to the first potion page, and tell me which potion it is." As Silwen flipped to the correct page, Xenophilius started writing on the chalkboard. "Potion number one: the love potion," stated Silwen. "But sir, are we beginning to brew this today?" Xenophilius laughed again and replied, "Of course not. I was simply curious of the hogwash I'd be teaching the other students." Silwen smiled. Perhaps this year would be all right after all. "Today, we will be starting an invisibility potion." Her eyes flashed excitedly. Snape had forbidden her to learn it despite her incessant wining and pleading.
"The Invisibility Potion begins quite simply. Turn the heat on your cauldron to simmer at a medium low. Add a bit of water drops or two to tell you that the temperature is right when they start to steam and evaporate." Silwen did as she was told and when the drops had evaporated, she waited for more instructions. "Now, add half of a crushed beozar," he smiled, handing a bag with the already crushed stone to her. "You mean, I don't even have to crush my own things either?" "I will not make you do so, did the new headmaster do so?" Carefully, Silwen poured the powder into the cauldron and then nodded. "This year is going to be totally awesome!" she thought ecstatically.
"Now, add the holy water, both of the bottles on your desk, and let that simmer." Silwen remembered making her first Veritaserum. What was so odd was the fact that they both started out the same way. With Silwen, once she made a potion, she never forgot how to do it, or what to put in it. "Professor? Are you sure we're making the Invisibility Potion?" Her face was slightly suspicious. "Of course, what else would we be making?" he tensed slightly. "Veritaserum." Her suspicion growing.
A nervous laugh rang throughout the dungeon. "Why would I tell you that we're making an Invisibility Potion if we aren't?" "Why are you handing me every ingredient already premade? And why do you seem so tense? Professor, I have a store of Veritaserum hidden in my dormitory. I can give you that. But I came here to learn. If I do not learn, the headmaster will hear about this, and I do NOT want him to report you. Please, teach me something. Anything, even if it isn't about potions. In fact, teach me about the Greek gods."
"If you give me that bottle, then I'll teach you everything I know about them. I swear it." Professor Lovegood's expression of desperation changed to one of the "lecture look" that every professor mirrored during their lectures. "I promise, sir." She said.
"The Greek gods sprung from our mother earth and the sky's son…"And so it was that during Advanced advanced Potions, Silwen began to learn about the gods that had appeared last night.
In Transfiguration, Draco was waiting, and she briefly explained who the new teacher was to set him down that path instead of what she had done. When Professor McGonagall started with her lesson Silwen snapped her attention to the teacher. "Today, we will be starting an experiment. For this term until March, we will be learning how to become Animagi."
For the first time in years, every single pair of eyes was hypnotized by McGonagall. "Professor, are you quite certain?" Lavender Brown was also mesmerized, yet dubious. "Have I ever jested in class Miss Brown?" barked McGonagall. Lavender shook her head, fearfully. "But Professor," intervened a new student, "What about NEWT?" "What about them? Now that the Dark Lord has supreme power, NEWTs aren't worth anything—until he is gone, that is." Professor McGonagall's face winced and for a moment, her students saw a flash of fear and pain run across her face.
"Let's begin. Open your books to page 254, and take careful notes. I will look over them in half an hour and I will take any questions you might have. Begin now." McGonagall walked over to her desk and sat down on it, in the shape of her animagus—a grey striped cat. The class was silent, except for the echo of scratching quills on parchment. In half an hour exactly, Professor McGonagall transformed back into herself, answered questions, gave more notes, and more reading homework due the next class period, despite the moans and groans her students gave her. "It will be finished, or a detention will be given!" she snapped at the pupils who came up to whine and beg at her.
The rest of the day went smoothly, with much homework given, and many groaning emitted. All the other teachers, however went under the pretense of N.E.W.T. preparation for starting off with such hard topics. Professor Binns had wanted a two-page essay about wizard tyrants. Professor Lovegood had given them the assignment of finding specific plants on their own for a potion they were to do next class. Hagrid had given them the least amount of homework, but it was still noteworthy: find and watch a magical creature for half an hour, write a report on what you discovered. Silwen was grateful she had dropped Divination; those students had to start dream journals with daily entries of one parchment long.
After Transfiguration, Draco caught up with Silwen. "Did you hear about the new professors? The Carrows? Anyone opposing them gets chained up, or the Cruciatus Curse preformed by other students." Silwen stared, appalled. "How…? Then, I guess with Snape being Voldemort's agent, they had to be instated," she spat. "Well, I think I'm going to take their punishments. We have one after the morning break, and the other after Lunch today." Draco nodded grimly. "We'd better head to the Muggle Studies classroom." She nodded, eyes wider than frightened dog's eyes.
Together, they walked to and into the classroom. When they got inside, they looked around it. Pictures of wizards exerting magic over writhing bodies, muggles in chains, Neolithic instruments, and the slogan of "Magic is Might" disfigured the walls. The desks were strictly aligned in rows, far enough apart that notes couldn't be passed unseen. The stench of putrid cheese, and musty clothes clotted up the air. "That smell must come from the office; I don't see any clothes or cheese in here," muttered Draco. "Let's sit in the back row."
"Welcome into my classroom," came a voice that sounded like sand paper scratching across a whiteboard. Alecto seemed to swarm to the front of the classroom like thousands of flies in human form. "First comers will sit in the front, Mr. Malfoy, and Miss Prince. Take your seats." Shrugging, Silwen stalked to the front, and dropped her bag beside her desk. Slowly, the rest of the class leaked inside, all looking either apprehensive or out rightly terrified at being taught by a Death Eater.
"Now that you are all here, we will begin." She moved around the classroom, and distributed the subject books to each student. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I'm so sorry to hear about your father. He was a friend of mine." She smirked, and the pupils looked at Draco Malfoy, some with relief that she wasn't singling them out, some with apathy, and surprisingly many with sympathetic sorrow on their faces because they knew the truth of Draco's father's decease—Voldemort had let the truth behind Lucius' murder ring a resounding warning to the rest of the world (the truth that he died because he had saved the Hogwarts Games participants, and rebelled against his master).
Draco looked away from them all, staring at the desk's markings. He took his book in silence. And Alecto Carrow passed Draco, and finished the distribution. "These books were written over the summer, and we weren't able to get them to Flourish and Blot's in time for you to purchase them before the school year started. For next lesson, you will all read through Chapter One. There will be a small retention test, you will all be prepared or receive detentions. No excuses." The lesson went on, and the class didn't dare utter a sound. Professor Carrow went on to describe the routine of the class for the year, what she'd teach, and what she expected from us—no smart mouthing, turning in every homework assignment on time or suffer detention, and total submission to any new rules she or her brother created.
Dark Arts was much the same. The teachers even looked nearly identical to one another. The only difference was the room decorations. Amycus had various torture instruments on display, and photographs of people writhing or shrieking in agony with a want tip in the corner of every one. The books weren't the same either; this one was a Dark Arts book, filled with hexes, jinxes, and instructions on giving the Unforgivable curses. "Don't you dare think about skiving off class. If you are missing and are not in the Hospital Wing, you will receive a double detention for two weeks. You have been warned once. It will not happen again." Their first lesson was a lecture on the Cruciatus curse. When Professor Carrow stated that skivers will receive a dose of this curse, the temperature in the room soared to freezing in less than a second. From the malicious expression on the professor's face, no one doubted it was false, and no one said a word. Here too, the class was more silent than ice. Not a single whisper was uttered.
The bell rang, and the students headed off. "Silwen, Draco!" Neville came rushing up. "Do you remember the D.A. meetings from two years ago? They're going to start again. Here," he said, handing Silwen a galleon. The time and date will appear on the side. Be aware, be ready." Neville cast them a meaningful look, and dashed off to his next class. "Are you going, Silwen?" Draco looked at Silwen, waiting for her to answer. "Of course. I'll even teach if necessary." He nodded. "I'm coming as well."
Together, they headed down to their next class, Care of Magical Creatures, double hour. "The fresh air will do everyone well. And seeing Hagrid will be nice too." Awkwardly, Draco didn't respond, but looked out to their destination. Hagrid's Hut grew bigger as they approached it. Silwen snuck a look at Draco who grew tenser and tenser. It was common knowledge that Draco had hated Hagrid. But after the games, they had been forced to join sides. What would Draco do, now he was back in school? Silwen's thoughts wandered around in her mind, trying to find an answer.
"Welcome back, everyone!" shouted a stained, but happy Hagrid, " 'Hope your summers went well! Today, we'll be learnin' 'bout kelpies. Sadly, I haven't been able to find some, so we'll be taking notes. Next class, I'll figh' one properly for you, and after, let ya a as a class fight one off." Hagrid paused, taking in the half-excited, half-terrified faces of his students. "Sir," began Neville, "A-are you sure we're ready?" "Course you are! Mos' of ya fought in the Games, this will be easy compared to that." Hagrid beamed at the seventh years and then began the lesson. "So who can tell me about kelpies?" Hands raised, but Silwen's stayed down.
Out of the blue, Draco raised his hand, anxiety all over his face. Hagrid saw this, and pounced. "Mr. Malfoy?" "They come from the orient; they dwell in swamps and deep streams. To eat kelpies lure their prey into the water, and drown it." The incessant whispers fell as if a Silencio curse had been fired at the entire group. For a few moments, Hagrid looked as if Filch had offered him flowers. But he recovered quickly. "5 points to, erm, Slytherin. Very good, Malfoy. Erm, yes, kelpies started in China, …" and the lecture continued. Amazedly, Silwen stared at her friend. Draco blushed, shrugged, and started to take notes.
At the end of the lesson Draco to stayed after for a few minutes. "Sir, I just want to say that I apologize for my previous behavior. I won't disrupt your class anymore." Hagrid nodded, jaw ajar, slightly. "All righ', you're free to go." "It's good to see you, Professor," said Silwen, timidly smiling. Hagrid distractedly smiled back, and headed into his hut, shaking his head in shock.
Together, Draco and Silwen headed back to the school. "You. Are. Amazing." Silwen's appreciation warmed the awkward silence between the two. "Thanks. You were too, you know, when we fought the kelpie in the Games." Silwen smiled again and Draco mirrored it in his face. "So, next we have what?" Silwen pulled her schedule out. "Charms. I wonder what we'll start with."
"We will begin with cheering charms as a review," squeaked a very small, very tiny voice Professor Flitwick. For its soft volume, his voice still managed to be heard by every single student in the entire classroom. This announcement was met with gleeful shouts from his students. And without being told, everyone started casting the spell on their friends. It was a happy double hour, filled with roars, laughter, and mirth. People forgot about the Carrows, about their new headmaster, about Voldemort's control. Exactly as Professor Flitwick had wished for his students—tender mercies in a time of turmoil.