"Ashmore, Hazel," Professor Flitwick called, reading from a roll of parchment that stretched all the way to the floor. "You're with Pandora on the third floor. Let's see, also with you two let's have..." Hazel and Pandora exchanged a look as they waited for the rest of their dormitory assignments. They'd been friends since they were four years old, both of them extremely excited to be at Hogwarts and sorted into Ravenclaw together. When Flitwick finished reading the other four names, the group of girls marched up to their third floor dormitory that would be their home for the next seven years.
As they unpacked, there was a lot to talk about: the sorting ceremony (rumor had it there was a boy whose family was about to disown him for being put in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin), the classes they were looking forward to (everyone had a different favorite, but Hazel was thinking potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts sounded fun), Quidditch tryouts (coming up far too soon), and everything they heard about the students, professors, ghosts, and creatures of Hogwarts. "I'm looking forward to Transfiguration the most," Pandora said as Hazel stashed her owl's cage beneath her bed. Safely in the owlery, her poor owl was free to roam after many hours trapped in a cage on the train. "Your mum loved Professor McGonagall, right?"
"Yeah. Mum says she's great. We're going to learn loads of things in her first class. I don't think we have it until Tuesday, though. Did you know she's an Animagus? Mum told me they all got there early and there was this cat sitting on the desk and…"
The two of them sat up late, getting to know their new roommates, witches from all over the country. Despite going to bed well after midnight, they were all wide awake in the morning, ready for Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors. It was a difficult balance of nerves and wanting to enjoy the big breakfast the House Elves cooked up, but hunger won out and everyone gorged themselves before heading back upstairs.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom filled up slowly as the first-years tried to find their classes among the shifting staircases and endless corridors of the castle. They had maps, but some of the staircases changed so often that they were hardly helpful. Hazel was one of the first ones there, taking a seat in the front row. She'd read all the way up to the chapter on gytrashes already, way beyond what they had been assigned. It had been fascinating, so she practically devoured the book. She stared at the giant dragon skeleton for a moment before rummaging through her bag for a book. Growing up, she had heard stories about them. She'd even seen one off in the distance when her family took a trip to Romania, but she had never gotten this close.
"Is this seat taken?" A sandy-haired boy in Gryffindor robes materialized next to her. What caught her attention was the pattern of prominent scars running down his face. He didn't seem to mind them much.
"No, go ahead," she answered as she continued to unpack. "I'm Hazel Ashmore. Ravenclaw, obviously. Nice to meet you."
"Remus." He shook her hand, the two of them distracted by a couple of rather loud Gryffindors who had burst into the room, obviously excited for the class. "That one there's Sirius, and the one with the glasses is James. Our friend Peter should be here soon. I think he lost his map of the halls at breakfast, though, so it might take him a while. We all met at the sorting ceremony," he explained. Sirius and James took seats in the back of the class, still talking loudly. "Anyway, are you excited for class?"
"For sure. It's one of the one's I've been looking forward to the most. Mum and Dad wouldn't teach me much about the Dark Arts, but I think they're fascinating. Not in an evil way," she rushed to assure him as he fished through his bag for a quill. "I want to understand how even good witches and wizards get lured in by them, and how we can try to stop that. And fighting them, of course. I want to be an Auror. Dad was one before… They sent him into a werewolf den without backup. No one knew there would be that many. They sent home what was left a few weeks later, once the other Aurors had hunted him down."
Remus was a little quieter than he had been before. "You don't want to hunt werewolves, do you?" he asked, a note of trepidation in his voice.
"No. I have nothing against them - from what we found out, Dad had gone in there thinking they'd taken a couple Muggles, but he was wrong. At least there were none there when the other Aurors arrived. They were defending their home, and he was a threat. Besides, not all werewolves are bad. Probably just pretty misunderstood. I take it your parents have told you all about them too?"
"You could say that," he nodded as the class fell silent. Their first lesson at Hogwarts had begun.
Hazel met the rest of the group that would soon start calling themselves "the Marauders" after Defense Against the Dark Arts. She also met Xeno - Xenophilius Lovegood, quite a name - a fellow Ravenclaw who sat next to her in that afternoon's Charms lesson. Seeing Professor Flitwick again was a small comfort after nearly getting lost a dozen times, assailed by Peeves, and running into a gang of surly-looking Slytherins when they'd accidentally found themselves in the dungeons thanks to the shifting staircases.
They had Potions with the Slytherins right after Charms, sending the first-year Ravenclaws scurrying from the East Tower down to the dungeons. Professor Slughorn made them all line up, Ravenclaws on one side of the classroom and Slytherins on the other. "In my class you will be working together a lot, at least until you reach your sixth year, should you want to continue on to study for your N.E.W.T.s," he told them, "and you will need to start learning to work with others outside of your house. So I'm going to match you all up, one Slytherin and one Ravenclaw, to work together for this week. After that you will be free to switch partners, but for now, let's get to know one another, shall we?" He summoned a roll of parchment from his desk. "Let's go with alphabetical order to make this easy. Authoribus!"
The Ravenclaws glanced over at the Slytherins, taking stock of their classmates. They knew the Slytherins were sizing them up too. This was their first class together, but given what everyone said about Slytherin and the people in the house, it might not be the most fun. "Alright, starting from the first of the Ravenclaws - Miss Ashmore. The desk over here, up front, please." Slughorn stopped her as she hauled her cauldron to the first desk. "When you write home, do give your mother my regards. And my condolences. She was one of my best students in her time." He looked back to his list, checking where he left off. "Alright, let's go in reverse order for the Slytherins to mix things up, which means… Mr. Snape, up here, please."
Hazel watched a dark-haired boy heave his cauldron over, taking the other half of the desk. "Hi. Hazel," she smiled, extending her hand.
"Severus," he answered, straightening his ill-fitting robes. They looked a bit worn, probably some that the school had handed out. She glanced at her own, freshly bought from Madam Malkin's. "How does Professor Slughorn know your mum?"
"She and my dad met in his class, back when Ravenclaw had Potions with the Hufflepuffs," Hazel whispered as Slughorn continued to pair people up. "She was one of his favorites." Lowering her voice and glancing over her shoulder, Hazel added, "Whether it was because she was actually good at Potions or because of our family, that's still up for debate, but she's always been able to brew up whatever we need."
"Family?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in what she would soon come to know as one of his signature expressions. "The Ashmores aren't part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, are they?" He'd learned about the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the perfectly Pureblood families, from one of his Prefects the night before. Plenty of Slytherins were from one of the families.
"No. Dad's last name was Ashmore, but Mum's maiden name was Ravenclaw. Like Rowena Ravenclaw," she explained as Slughorn moved to the blackboard. "Rowena's younger brother was my great-great-great-granddad or something."
"I trust you all have copies of the textbook," Slughorn began, "but if you do not, I have a couple of spares in the cabinet at the back of the room by where you all entered. You can pick one up later. For now, you and your partner will only need one book between you. We will be getting acquainted with the basics of potion making, as I'm sure many of you could use it, whether you come from Muggle families or had parents who did not do well in this class."
Snape leaned closer, whispering, "You're an actual Ravenclaw? Wow." The older Slytherins were adamant that all of the best people were sorted into Slytherin, but maybe they were wrong. They had to be wrong. His best friend was a Gryffindor, after all. And Hazel seemed nice too.
"Yeah. I hate it. Not a lot of people recognize us, since our name's not 'Ravenclaw', but every time I visit my Uncle -"
"Miss Ashmore," Slughorn stopped in front of their desk. "Perhaps you can tell me where I can find a bezoar, something that will come in handy should any of you garble your potions too badly."
She didn't miss a beat, turning to Slughorn to answer. "A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat that can cure most common poisons. I wouldn't want to trouble the school goats, though, so I'd check the supply closet or the storeroom first."
"Clever girl. Five points to Ravenclaw. How is your Uncle Sherlock doing, by the way? Still in the detective business?"
That made her smile a bit. "He and Aunt Violet aren't slowing down any time soon."
"He's got to be near... a hundred and twenty now, hasn't he? Ah, well, being friends with Nicolas Flamel pays off, now doesn't it?" Slughorn chuckled. "Good for him, good for him. Tell them both hello. Alright, Mr. Lovegood, if you please - What are the kinds of measures that…"
Snape cut off the rest of the question, whispering furiously. "There's no way your uncle is - he's not real!"
"He's in Hogwarts, a History," Hazel told him. "He and Aunt Violet are. And John Watson too, even though he's a Muggle. How do you think Uncle Sherlock can think so fast? He was the Ravenclaw of all Ravenclaws, and a terrible nuisance at parties. Still my favorite uncle, though."
"Mr. Snape, it's good to see you're making friends outside of our house, but it's time to focus on Potions. Tell me, what's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Slughorn questioned.
"Nothing, sir. They're the same plant, which also goes by the name of 'aconite'. It's commonly used in potions, and recently has been showing some promise for keeping werewolves sane when they transform, though the research is still in its extremely early stages."
Slughorn had to smile. "Been reading my work, have you? Five points to Slytherin. Ah, better make it ten for citing an excellent source."
The rest of Potions went well, and soon enough Hazel found herself back with the Gryffindors for Herbology. Remus waved her over, so she and Pandora grabbed spots next to him. "How's Slughorn? I have him tomorrow morning."
"He's great. He definitely picks favorites, though."