INTERVAL 10:

LEARNING

One thing Alma and Harry did before coming to Hogwarts was to carefully read their texts so that they had a basic grounding in the subjects at hand. It came in handy with their first lesson, Potions.

Severus Snape was a man whose exceedingly unpleasant thoughts were apparent in his expression, even if Alma couldn't hear his thoughts. Certainly, the way he singled out Harry during the roll-call as a 'celebrity' rubbed her the wrong way.

That being said, the man certainly knew how to lecture, his resonant, nasal but commanding voice holding them all spellbound. Potions must be a sorely underestimated branch of magic, and his speech was practised well. But the cold insult at the end, she could have done without. She could feel the eagerness of Hermione (the Ravenclaws taking their class with the Hufflepuffs) to prove she wasn't a 'dunderhead', as Snape put it politely (Alma getting the feeling that Snape wanted to use a less-polite term).

She felt Harry's nervousness, and sent a calming sensation through their link. Judging by the way Snape was looking at him, she knew Harry was going to be singled out. And she wasn't disappointed.

"Potter!" Snape all but snapped. "If I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, what would I have?"

A brief moment of panic from Harry, followed by relief as he recalled it from the introduction of the text. "The main part of the Draught of Sleeping Death, Professor," Harry said. "A sleeping potion so potent, only the antidote can wake the drinker."

A brief expression of surprise on Snape's features. Eventually, he said, "Clearly, fame isn't everything. Let's see if that was a lucky fluke. I want to find a bezoar. Where would I find it?"

As Harry thought about the answer, Alma didn't have to turn to look at Hermione, who seemed to be bouncing up and down in her chair, her hand held up high. Her thoughts were so eager and energetic. Sadly, she didn't think eagerness would cut it with Snape.

"The stomach of a goat, Professor. There are many types of bezoars or gastroliths, but the goat bezoar is a potent antidote." The bit about gastroliths wasn't in the text, but Alma remembered the term from her father. Her father was a medical doctor after all, and as she killed him, she also took what memories she could from his dying mind. She had discussed this with Harry earlier.

Snape's expression seemed to be a mixture of emotions. Annoyance, and perhaps the slightest touch of grudging respect. "Hmm, so it seems you can go outside mere rote learning." He looked up sharply at Hermione. "And put your hand down, Granger!" he snapped.

Hermione's thoughts were full of hurt at being dismissed so readily by Snape. And then, the Potions Master looked at Alma. "Wade! What's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Out loud, she said, as loud as she dared to make her rasping voice, "There is no difference. They are the same plant, aconite, a key ingredient in many potions."

Their eyes met, impassive gaze meeting impassive gaze, orange glowing eyes meeting black ones. And Alma got the impression that the only reason Snape looked away was because he needed to continue the lesson. "Five points to Hufflepuff," he said grudgingly, before snapping, "And why aren't any of you noting this down?!"

There was a quick scrambling for quills and parchment, and after noting it all down, Snape went over to the blackboard, on which a potions recipe had been written. "This is a simple potion to cure boils. I expect you to follow the instructions strictly, and to the letter! Otherwise, the consequences will be worse than me taking points from your House. Understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, Professor Snape" susurrated around the room, and they were paired off. Harry and Alma worked together, naturally. And while their potion wasn't exactly perfect, Snape merely criticised one thing about it, compared to others. Hermione, working with a boy called Anthony Goldstein, got a grudging nod of approval.

However, one Hufflepuff pair, on the other side of the room, was having trouble. "NO, DON'T PUT THE PORCUPINE QUILLS IN NOW!" Susan Bones shrieked at Zacharias Smith.

Thinking quickly, Alma projected her energy around the cauldron they were using just as Smith dropped the quills in. Orange and black energy surrounded the cauldron as a hissing noise emerged, and the cauldron, just visible within the cloud of Alma's energy, melted away into a misshapen lump of metal, liquid spilling out into the energy field.

Snape stormed over, glaring at Smith. "Imbecile! Did you not hear her?! Did you not hear me? You add the porcupine quills AFTER you take the cauldron off the fire! I said to follow the instructions to the letter!" Smith made the mistake of sneering at Snape, for the man snarled, "Ten points from Hufflepuff, Smith! Be thankful it isn't more." He waved his wand, and the spilled potion, still contained within the energy field, vanished. Alma released the energy field. She idly thought that the melted cauldron now looked like a work of abstract art. "And be thankful that something prevented this mess from splashing onto you and Miss Bones, or you'd be suffering from boils all over your skin. Faulty potions do not care if you are descended from Helga Hufflepuff, or from Merlin himself!"

The Potions class went on for some time longer. After it was finished, Snape told Alma to stay behind. Alma had Harry wait just outside, with Hermione staying with them. Snape looked down at Alma with his dark eyes, before saying, "That was you with that strange…power around the cauldron." It was not a question.

Eventually, Alma nodded.

"Dumbledore warned me about provoking you, Wade, and how protective you are about Potter. He told me that you have considerable powers, powers I saw you demonstrate with ease. Allow me then to give you a warning of my own. It is good that you reacted quickly to prevent Bones and Smith from being harmed by the fruits of Smith's incompetence, but be aware that you already are considered to be dark by the student rumour mill, especially in my own House. Your actions against Malfoy on the train didn't help. And the opinions of Magical Britain are fickle. I would suggest treading very carefully, Wade. Your powers will be considered Dark. Consider this free advice, Wade. Many are jealous of Potter and his fame." His expression suggested that, in part, he was one of them. "And many won't hesitate to try and attack him through you."

After a moment, Alma said, out loud, "They can try. Thank you, Professor."

"You may leave, but remember what I said," Snape said.


The other questions were a mixed bag. True, Transfiguration and Charms were good subjects, partly because they were interesting, and partly because of the teachers. McGonagall was strict, warning them of the dangers of Transfiguration, but she also was a good teacher. Flitwick was a more entertaining one, the diminutive professor being good natured, though she could have done without the yelp of surprise and fall when he saw Harry's name on the roll. It seemed rehearsed.

Herbology…she didn't like the subject. Not the practical parts, anyway. She liked the theory, and Professor Sprout was a warm and kind person, and her thoughts were very comforting. Astronomy bored her, though, and the fact that it took place at night was annoying enough. But that had nothing on the debacle that was Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Quirrell acted the fool, stuttering and stammering his way through classes, stinking of garlic. And yet, he was also capable of Occlumency. That made her wary. He also taught little of value. Alma decided that, with Harry and Hermione at least, and maybe with Ron, they could have a study group.

She learned earlier from older Hufflepuffs that Quirrell had been the Muggle Studies teacher, but had wanted to teach DADA, despite the fact that the position was rumoured to be cursed. Indeed, for decades, no DADA teacher had stayed in the role for more than a year. Despite this, Snape was said to desire the role strongly, and reputedly had a grudge against Quirrell for taking it. Quirrell had taken a year-long sabbatical to get practical experience for the role. Most students thought he had one bad experience too many, with the last straw being an attack by a Hag.

Alma didn't think so. Something stank about Quirrell, aside from garlic.

They accepted an invitation from Hagrid, who wanted to see Harry again. As they had Friday afternoon off, they went to see him. Harry had received the invitation, and Ron and Hermione came with them. Hagrid seemed a bit wary of Alma, but let them all in. As they had tea, Hagrid discussed various topics, like his anger at the Dursleys (having heard about what happened from Dumbledore), the teachers (Ron had a lot to say about Snape, none of it good, thanks to an incident involving Neville screwing up the boil-curing potion and Ron getting the blame), and Ron's brother Charlie, who worked on a dragon sanctuary.

Harry noticed it before Alma did, though Alma did notice Hagrid's thoughts seemed preoccupied with the Philosopher's Stone, as he was when she first encountered him. Harry saw the newspaper clipping about a Gringotts break-in. Alma remembered McGonagall mentioning that Gringotts was supposedly impregnable to thieves. Clearly, someone had managed to do the impossible, though the item in question had been removed before the break-in. And when Hagrid noticed them looking at the clipping, she knew that it was the Stone that had been taken out from his thoughts.

It meant that she would have to do some research on the Philosopher's Stone, and soon. If someone was after the Stone, Alma intended to make sure that they didn't get a hold of it, at least not before she did…


It was an accepted truism of the universe that Argus Filch was rarely, if ever, happy. A sour, embittered man who made Severus Snape look joyful by comparison, Filch had no love in his life, save for tormenting students, and his cat, Mrs Norris. After all, it was so unfair that he, born to a Pureblood family, was a Squib, and forced to work thanks to the oh-so-generous Headmasters. He was basically meant to be seen as someone doing the cleaning and tidying, even though the House Elves did much of it. He was meant to keep the students in line, so how could that old fart Dumbledore stop him from disciplining them?

He was at his happiest when tormenting students, catching them breaking the rules, and taking points from them. But he would be far happier still if he had the ability to use magic.

That old fool Dumbledore didn't know it, as Filch had enough cunning to conceal it (if he had magic, he would have been a shoe-in for Slytherin), but he had been given a substantial amount of money lately, to keep an eye on Hogwarts, and for two students in particular. Harry Potter, that crotchspawn of that troublemaking bastard James Potter, and an unusual girl called Alma Wade. And they had come this year.

Genevieve Aristide had told him to practise his Occlumency, something he could practise even being a Squib, and he felt confident he was as good as that big-conked sourpuss Snape. And now, she had sent him a substantial amount of money (into a Muggle Swiss bank account, rather than Gringotts), as well as a Portkey. He needed to find a way to have Harry and Alma be holding the Portkey when it activated, along with himself. But then again, he was a master of finding the smallest excuse to punish a person. He would need to bide his time, and wait for the right opportunity.

And soon, he would get the power Genevieve had promised him, the power to use magic, at long last! No more having idiots look down upon him with condescension and pity. Genevieve had promised him that he would be the first to receive the gift of magic to a Squib, after her, which was why he was going with her.

So aroused was his avarice for magic, that he never stopped to consider the consequences of his actions. After all, even if Alma didn't manage to kill him before she was subdued, who was to say that Genevieve would keep up her side of the bargain? After all, many of those in power and prestige are loathe to sharing it.

Filch didn't know it, but the moment he arrived, he was going to be killed and thrown into an incinerator. After all, who would miss a Squib?

INTERVAL 10 ANNOTATIONS:

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry it was a long time coming, and this is one of the stories I won't be updating as frequently, so it'll be a while before the next one. BTW, congrats to Mangahero18, who correctly guessed that Genevieve's mole in Hogwarts is Filch. Squibs are seen as a real underclass in the series, and I'm sure Genevieve would know how to exploit them.

Review-answering time! Squadpunk 2.0: The latter. She'll basically bring herself back to life through sheer force of will. That's pretty much what she did in the game.

TJG: The Horcrux is only a small fragment, so Alma doesn't get all of the memories, just some. She will know about the other Horcruxes, but only a couple of them. She'll teach Harry what skills she managed to learn later, but only if she thinks he can handle them, magically speaking.

Dustiniz117: While well-reasoned, there's the financial issues. I think once Sirius Black is exonerated (which will happen later in the story), he will become their guardian. I just had this interesting image of Alma incinerating the portrait of Walburga.

No numbered annotations this time.