Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Dahlia Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter Seven

Dahlia's clock woke her at a quarter to seven. Nine hours of sleep was satisfying for a first time in a new place. She took a long shower and relaxed under the hot water. The bathroom contained four individual showers, a small pool, a mirror that covered all a wall and three sinks inserted in a large counter. She didn't have any problem to find a place to all her things: soap, shampoo, two towels, brush, hair elastics, toothbrush and toothpaste.

When she got out dressed in the school uniform, all the girls were still asleep. She decided to write a letter to Anne Elizabeth. Picking up a quill, she began to trace her message in an elegant calligraphy. Dahlia practised all summer to write with a quill, ink and parchment. She was quite proud of her handwriting.

Dear Anne Elizabeth,

I hope you don't miss me too much. The train ride was long and I was starving when we arrived at Hogwarts. I made friends with Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. Do you remember her? We met her in Diagon Alley. They are very nice.

I was sorted in Hufflepuff, like we predicted. Here, everyone expects me to be a brave Gryffindor like my parents. It's kind of annoying in the end. The castle is really beautiful; I can't wait to show it to you. The Common Room is friendly and warm, all in yellow and black. There are plants everywhere because our Head of House, Professor Sprout, is the Herbology teacher.

The classes will start this morning. I'll write to you about it later this week.

Love,

Dahlia

"What are you doing?" Dahlia jumped at the sound behind her and toppled her writing material. Fortunately, she didn't spill the ink on the desk. Susan was awake and looked at her with sleepy eyes. The question woke the three other girls.

"Writing a letter to Anne Elizabeth." Checking her clock, she said, "You have less than five minute before joining Gabriel in the Common Room."

A loud "WHAT?" echoed through the room. They all scrambled to the bathroom to tried to fix hair and makeup. Why eleven years old girls feel the need to wear makeup, Dahlia had no idea. Chuckling, she put away the quill and ink and folded her letter. She would find Hedwig later.

When all of them were ready, they descended to the Common Room. The boys were already there, fidgeting nervously. Only Gabriel Truman was calm and comfortable. He raised his head at their approach.

"Good, you're all here. What take you so long, girls?"

"We kinda overslept. We woke up five minutes ago."

"Not me! I had a clock. It's not my fault if they didn't hear it."

"Whatever. Here is the map of Hogwarts." He distributed the parchments to the first years. It wasn't really big, only the size of a normal sheet of paper. "It's enchanted to show a specific path. To choose a destination, tap one time with your wand and say your destination clearly. The reset your map, tap it with your wand twice."

"Cool!" Justin Finch-Fletchley was excited. "It's like a GPS. No way we can get lost with that. Are the others Houses have the same thing?"

"A what? Never mind. I think we're the only House. McGonagall doesn't have the time to elaborate such things, Ravenclaws are taught the Point-Me Charm and Slytherins made a point to know the castle by heart before their first day. With their pride, they don't want to be seen lost or with a map."

"I though Gryffindors were the proud ones," said Ernest Macmillan with frown.

"It came from the pure-blood etiquette, not the House, even if these day, we tend to confound the two. Anyway, give it a try."

The first years glanced around a bit, each of them daring the others to try. Finally, Wayne Hopkins took his wand and said: 'Great Hall'.

In front of their amazed eyes, the blank parchment became an intertwined pattern of ink. The lines settled in a straight drawing of corridors and stairs. A red arrow showed the path to take.

"This is one of the few secrets that you are absolutely forbidden to share with the other Houses. These maps are passed from generations to generations since Helga Hufflepuff herself. This, the entrance of the Common Room and the secret passages to the dungeons and the greenhouses are classified information."

"Why the dungeons?" asked Neville. "The greenhouses, I can understand because Hufflepuffs have natural abilities with plants, but the dungeons?

"The secret passage lead straight to the Potions' wing. You don't have to walk much through that dark and cold place." The prefect chuckled. "Bonus, the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws have to pass in front of Filch and Snape' offices, but not us."

"This sound pretty cool," admitted Susan. "Can we go eat? I'm hungry."

"Of course. Don't forget to return the map before the end of the year. Not that you'll need it then."

The first years travelled in pack to the Great Hall. The majority of the Slytherins and Ravenclaws were already there. The few Gryffindors present were loud and rowdy. Professor McGonagall was watching them with thin lips and frowned eyebrows, disapproval clear on her face.

"There, look."

"Where?"

"In the middle of the Hufflepuff group."

"With the long brown hair?"

"Did you see her scar?"

"Why isn't she a Gryffindor?"

When they arrived in the Great Hall, the whispers followed Dahlia everywhere she went. People would point and stare, their eyes following her like a hawk. She was particularly annoyed be the comments about her House. When she sat and served herself breakfast, she made a point to ignore them and concentrate on her housemates. Leanne Laughland went to one of her friend at the Gryffindor table, Wayne Hopkins to his twin brother Carl Hopkins and Megan Jones to her cousin Peter Jones. At the end, they were six: Dahlia, Hannah, Susan, Neville, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernest Macmillan. The table was filled with typical English breakfast: toasts, eggs, bacon, baked beans, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms and potatoes.

"Ernest Macmillan, Heir of the Macmillan family," said a sandy-blond haired boy pompously, standing up to shake Dahlia, Neville, Hannah and Susan's hands. "It's an honour to meet you, I hope we can be good friends."

"Hum, p-pleasure to meet you. Neville Longbottom, Heir of the M-most Ancient and Most Noble House of Longbottom."

"Hannah Abbott, Heiress of the Abbott family."

"Susan Bones, Heiress of the Ancient and Noble House of Bones."

"Dahlia Potter, Heiress of the Most Ancient House of Potter," she said, copying her friends. They all shook his hand and Justin introduced themselves. They sat down on both side of the table.

"Sorry for the presentation. The Macmillan are not blood purist but my father insist that I make a good impression in front of other Heirs, especially those from a powerful House, like the Greengrass, the Parkinson, the Nott, the Bulstrode, the Flint, etc.

"All Slytherins," remarked Susan. "And all in the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

"Yeah, like I said, I'm sorry. They are the only Houses that can beat my family. Only nine generations of wizards, we aren't Ancient or Noble."

"Wait, hold on a second." Justin was completely lost. "Ancient? Houses? Sacred Twenty-Eight? What's all that?

"The Sacred Twenty-Eight is a list of 'truly pure-blood families'." explained Susan. "The Macmillans and the Abbotts are in it."

"Nobody pay attention to that except the few blood purists that Ernest mentioned. Many families are extinct or soon will be. You don't have to learn about Houses, Ancient or Noble."

"Really? How many Houses died?"

"Hum, the Burkes, the Gaunts, the Prewetts and the Shafiqs main lines disappeared. Nobody bear their name, but there are a few descendants from women. The Avery, the Black, the Crouch, the Lestrange, the Rowle, the Selwyn, the Travers and the Yaxley's Heirs are all in prison with a life sentence." Neville counted on his fingers. "Abbott, Bulstrode, Flint, Greengrass, Longbottom, Macmillan, Malfoy, Nott, Parkinson and Weasley are in the school, Carrow and Fawley have younger children. The Rosiers are all adults. Ollivander and Slughorn are unlikely to produce Heirs and will died with their last surviving member. Did I miss someone?

"Yes, the Shacklebolt Heir is still 'on the market'," added Hannah. Turning to Justin, she said: "Only twelve, possibly thirteen families will survive. Like Neville said, you don't have to worry about that. I only learned the list because my family is in it. It's their big pride."

"Please, call me Ernie. Ernest is old, and it's the name of my great-grandfather, or something like that."

They continued to chat while eating. Ernie was looking forward for Potions and Justin was excited for Transfiguration. The stares and the whispers had stopped after everyone had a good look at her. The Gryffindor were still sulking about Dahlia's Sorting. The only ones who had the courage to approach her were the Weasley twins and it was to apologize about their rude question on Platform 9 ¾. At half past eight, Professor Sprout passed through her students and handed them their timetables.

"Is it good?" said Justin while eating his eggs.

"Yes, though Thursday will be overwhelming. Look."

1st period

09h00-10h00

2nd period

10h30-11h30

Dinner

11h30-13h00

3rd period

13h00-14h00

4th period

14h30-15h30

Monday

Transfiguration

Charms

DADA

Herbology

Tuesday

Free period

Herbology

Charms

History

Wednesday

Potions

Free period

Herbology

Charms

Thursday

History

Transfiguration

Potions

Potions

Friday

DADA

DADA

Transfiguration

Free period

With Gryffindor: Herbology and History

With Ravenclaw: DADA, Transfiguration and Potion

With Slytherin: Charms and Astronomy

Astronomy will be Thursday from 23h00 to 00h00 with Slytherin.

"Come on, we have thirty minutes before our first class. I don't want to be late, even with the map."

"Okay, okay." Justin shovelled one last bite of eggs and wiped is mouth. Their small group left the Great Hall and went to the Common Room to grab their things.

"Hey, Susan? Do you know where the Owlery is?"

"Good idea. I'll send a letter to Auntie too." She took the map from her bag and tap it with her wand. "Top of the West Tower, accessible from the seventh floor. We can go during dinner-time."

"Who are you writing to? Your parents… sorry, sorry." Ernie stopped himself before saying the wrong thing.

"Don't be." Dahlia waved it off. "I'm writing to a kid at my orphanage, Anne Elizabeth."

"You're close?"

"Very. We share everything since her birth. I'm her older sister/mother. Taught her everything I know."

"I wish I had the same relationship with my brother." said Justin grimly. "He became a bit bitter after I received my Hogwarts letter. I think he's jealous."


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 the doors that wouldn't open unless you ask 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. Fortunately, the first years has the map of the school. More than one time, Gryffindors would arrive late in class. The portrait didn't help, and neither did the ghosts. Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, was happy to point the students in the right direction, but Peeves, the poltergeist, was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you're late for class. He would drop waste-basket on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk or sneak behind you, invisible, grab your nose and screech, 'GOT YOUR CONK!'

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. He was constantly in a fool mood because he caught the Weasley twins trying to get in the third-floor corridor on the first day. He owned a cat, Mrs Norris, a scrawny, dust-coloured creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put a toe out of line, and she's whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition to many to give Mrs Norris a good kick.

Dahlia and Justin discovered quickly that magic was not just waving the wand and muttering some weird words.

Professor McGonagall was not someone who tolerated nonsense. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they had 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 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 the Ravenclaws Padma Patil and Terry Boot had made a difference to their match; it had gone all silver and pointy. They earned fifteen points to Ravenclaw. Dahlia struggled in this class because Transfiguration was more about visualization and imagination than raw power.

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 lesson he took the register, and when he reached Dahlia's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. She was particularly good in this class because it required concentration, power and precision in the wand movement and the pronunciation.

The class everyone seemed to be looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said it was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would come 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 his story. For one thing, when Anthony Goldstein asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, he 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 with garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Three times a week, they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and found what they were used for. Neville wasn't lying when he told them he was a pro in Herbology. During that class, the shy first year would turn into a walking encyclopaedia of plants. He earned a lot of House points and became the favourite student of Professor Sprout.

Dahlia was much more optimistic about History of Magic than everyone else. The upper years told them that Professor Binns was a boring ghost and his class was used to nap. She didn't want to believe them and thought that the subject would be interesting no matter how dull the teacher is. Turns out she was right. Dahlia just copied the headline from Binns' speech then did her own research in her book History of Magic. Most of her friends were asleep and counting on her to pass her notes and helping them doing their homework.


On Wednesday morning, the little group made their way to the Great Hall very early.

"What have we got today?" asked Justin as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Potions with Ravenclaw," said Susan. "My aunt says that Snape always favour the Slytherins and hate the Gryffindors – her new Aurors always complain about him. I hope he isn't too bad with us."

"I doubt that." Dahlia gave an unladylike snort. "He has bad history with my father and isn't mature enough to see that I'm not him."

"Don't worry." Ernie patted her in the back. "If Snape come after you, we'll stand against him. We Hufflepuffs are one unit."

"Thanks guys."

Just then, the post arrived. About a hundred owls had suddenly steamed into the Great Hall, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropped the letters and packages on their laps. Hedwig had carried two letters from Dahlia since the beginning of the school: one from September first and one with wizard candies. Anne Elizabeth would talk about her new teacher and the life without her at the orphanage. She seemed to cope fine.

Potions lessons took place in one of the dungeons. It was colder there than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough even without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. The Hufflepuffs were happy to have a secret passage that lead them in the classroom's corridor. Hannah sat with Neville, Dahlia with Susan and Ernie with Justin.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the register, and like Flitwick, he paused at Dahlia's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly. "Dahlia Potter. Our new – celebrity."

An uneasy silence followed his words. She narrowed her eyes but let it pass. He wasn't disrespectful – yet. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black and lacked of 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 potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they 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. The group exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. The Ravenclaws were divided between nervous people and some that wanted to prove themselves.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Dahlia frowned at the question. Several hesitant hands were raised in the other side of the room but he ignored them.

"Nothing, you can't make a potion with just two ingredients, sir."

"Incorrect Potter! Fame clearly isn't everything."

The Ravenclaws quickly lowered their hand when he sent a glare in their direction.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"Any decent apothecary sells them. Same thing for a hospital, sir."

"This is not funny, Potter!"

Snape was becoming redder as she answered politely and more or less correctly.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

This time, Neville' hand shot up high as he nearly fell out of his chair. Hannah jumped beside him, startled by the sudden movement. Snape paid no attention to them.

"Nothing, this is the same plant, that also goes by the name of aconite. It has a green stem and purple flowers. The leaves are very toxic, and a failed potion with aconite is very dangerous. In medieval Europe, it was often used as poison in animal bait or on arrow head. In medicine, it can be used as a pain-reliever, diuretic, heart sedative and to induce sweating." Dahlia recited the answer nearly words for words from the textbook One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. "It is used in the Wolfsbane potion, which helps a werewolf to control his mind during the full moon and his transformation."

"One point from Hufflepuff, Potter. Just as arrogant as your father, thinking you know everything."

Whispers broke into the classroom. She gave a perfect answer and the teacher still took points. Not mentioning that he insulted the known war hero James Potter. Her friends were boiling with anger but she stopped Susan from insulting Snape.

"Je croyais qu'on s'était entendu pour laisser les morts dans le passé, professeur."

Her soft voice resounded through the room. Very few had understood what she said but Lisa Turpin was looking at her with wide eyes.

"What? English, Potter!" Snape snapped.

"I thought we had agreed to leave the dead in the past, sir," She said coldly. "Holding a grudge for ten years over a dead man is rather… unhealthy, don't you think? What would Lily Potter say about your treatment of her daughter?

"Ten point from Hufflepuff for your cheek, Potter!" Snape was now yelling, not caring about the hateful eyes of her Housemates or the interested looks from the Ravenclaws. "You don't know your father but I do. James Potter was an arrogant, spoiled brat, not worthy of the attention of Lily. He must have bewitched her for falling in love with him. She should have been mine!"

He was panting at the end of his tirade. Now noticing the bewildered looks from his class, the few remaining colours of his face drained. He couldn't believe that he lost his temper in front of a whole class. Without looking at anyone, he turned around and taped the board with his wand. Instructions appeared in with chalk.

"For the rest of the period, you'll be preparing the Boil Cure. Begin!"

Things didn't improve as the Potions lessons continued. Snape sat behind his desk without saying anything else for the rest of the period. Fumes and scents filled the room soon enough, making the board difficult to see. Susan and Dahlia were a productive team, one cutting and crushing the ingredients and the other watching the heat of the cauldron and stirring when she added an item. The final result was adequate, but the potion was far too liquid. Ernie and Justin's potion was perfect, but Neville added a porcupine quill before taking the cauldron of the heat. Fortunately, Hannah grabbed his hand before he could add the second, which would have cause an explosion. Now, their concoction was wasted, but at least they didn't blow something up.

As they climbed the steps back to their Common Room, Dahlia's friends were buzzing angrily around her, all of them cursing Snape and calling him names.

"Not fit to teach at all!" shouted Susan. "I'll write a letter to Auntie now. Dahlia, if you offer your testimony under a truth oath, we can expel him under the charges of abuse of power and extreme lack of respect to a student.

"I doubt it would work," said Ernie grimly. "Snape has powerful allies in the pure-blood families. Also, with Dumbledore at his side, nothing can touch him."

"It's true. My Gran told me that he was suspected to be a Death Eater but escaped Azkaban because Dumbledore vouched for him."

"In Muggle school," said Justin, "Snape would have been fired on his first day. No teacher can insult parents and stay in their post."

"Normally, the Hogwarts Board of Governors would make sure such thing happen but the Director, Lucius Malfoy, is a great friend of Snape. That's why he gets off every time someone complain."

"A corrupt system. Great!" said Dahlia sarcastically. "In what other domains the Wizarding World lack?"

"Maternity and paternity leave," answered Hannah. "Mum had to leave her job when she was pregnant with me. Also, she didn't work before I was five years-old because she had to be a full-time mother."

They thought about what she said. Dahlia didn't want to stop working if she had a child. But in a way, money was not a problem for her.

"We got a free period to do our homework." Justin tried to lighten the subject. "I don't want the go to sleep to late, tomorrow we have our first Astronomy class."

"We just have Transfiguration. Everyone know that Dahlia already covered the History," Susan teased her. "What's the topic anyway? The Goblin Rebellion of 1612?"

"Yes." Dahlia didn't enter the details. She knew that her friends slept through the class and she didn't mind them. Reading from the textbook was far more interesting than listening Binns. "I just need to revise your copies so that we don't have the same answers. You might want to transcribe, though, if you don't want to get caught cheating. My handwriting is nowhere near yours."

"Will do."


After the hour of homework, the six friends went to dinner. Apparently, the Ravenclaws in the Potions class loved to gossip because everyone was looking at Dahlia or at the empty seat of Professor Snape. The rumour mill of Hogwarts was very fast. A couple of Gryffindors went to congratulate her for standing her ground in front of Snape and insulting him.

Dahlia noticed a piece of paper lying under the table. She picked it up and realized it was the morning edition of the Daily Prophet:

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 been emptied that same day.

'But we're not tell you what was in there, so keep your noses out of it if you know what's good for you,' said a Gringotts' spokesgoblin this afternoon.

"Did you know? Gringotts has been robbed."

"Really?" Susan peaked in interest over her food. "What happened to the burglar?"

"Nothing, he wasn't caught. The vault was empty when the culprit arrived. Nothing disappeared."

"That's strange… We don't have to be bothered by this." Ernie wasn't very interested. He picked a cucumber from his plate. "This is adult business."

"Right. What do we have this afternoon?" Dahlia put the newspaper on the table and began eating.

"Herbology and Charms. A fine afternoon before a horrible Thursday. History, boring as Hell, Transfiguration, lots of writing and few practice, double Potions to darken even more the mood, and finally, Astronomy, which means we're not in bed before a quarter past midnight."

All of them groaned in dismay. Soon, Dahlia forgot about the robbery.


Hello everyone!

I wanted to thank you all for your favourite, follow and reviews.

LambdaOfTheDead: Je ne sais pas du tout. Je n'aime pas beaucoup le personnage de Sirius Black, mais je ne sais pas encore comment je vais faire pour introduire la bataille du Département des Mystères si Dahlia n'est pas proche de lui. En tout cas, je suis sûre d'écrire jusqu'à la sixième année.

I wanted Dahlia to change Binns' method of teaching, but I realized it would be too Mary Sue-ish for her to be the first one to succeed in centuries. This group of six will be her closes friend for the seven years. Snape is an ass, I really don't like him and he's going to die like in the canon. Next time will be the Flying Class, but Dahlia won't become a part of the Quidditch team (no Malfoy, no rule-breaking). Don't worry, she will love flying anyway.

Lady Midnight 10205