Ding dong.
The doorbell chimed throughout the modest town house, bringing Matthew from the kitchen through the living room. He shot a look at Daisy, curled up in a large sofa chair with a book resting on her legs as she read.
"Who could that be?" mused Matthew as he passed through. Daisy shrugged in response. She heard the front door open, and her father's surprised reaction to the visitor.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Matthew said. "I...well…this is a surprise! How are you?"
"I am excellent, thank you Matthew," came the voice of Albus Dumbledore. "I hope you will forgive my rudeness at visiting unannounced. I wonder if I might intrude upon your home for a moment?"
"Of course, Professor! Please, come inside."
Daisy could hardly believe her ears. Professor Dumbledore? Visiting their house?
Professor Dumbledore thanked Matthew and entered the house, complimenting his host on the hanging baskets as he did so. Matthew led the aged headmaster to the living room.
"Please, have a seat, Professor," Matthew offered. "Can I offer you a drink? Tea, coffee?"
"Tea would be delightful, thank you," Professor Dumbledore said. "Ah, this must be Daisy."
Daisy sat up and smiled politely, waving in lieu of a greeting. Professor Dumbledore had to be the oldest man that Daisy had ever met. He wore bright purple robes with gold trim and had the longest, most silver-y beard of any wizard she had ever seen.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Daisy," Professor Dumbledore said. "I trust you are keeping your father on his toes? I rather find that fathers of well-behaved daughters inevitably become unbearably dull. I hope you will assist your father in avoiding such a fate."
Noticing the eyes twinkling merrily behind the Professor's half-moon glasses, Daisy grinned mischievously. She'd made Matthew jump twice already since breakfast.
"Excellent! Ah, here is your father now."
Matthew was carrying a tray with three tea cups and saucers. Two with tea...the third was filled with hot chocolate--Daisy's favorite. A tray of biscuits floated out behind him. Daisy giggled and Professor Dumbledore nodded.
"Here we are," Matthew said, and then signing he added, *Only two biscuits, Daisy, you know the rule. You'll ruin your dinner.*
*I know, Dad* Daisy signed. *Don't worry.*
"Marvellous," Professor Dumbledore said, beaming at their easy communication. "Simply marvellous. You'll forgive an old man's ignorance if I am mistaken, but I believe that is British Sign Language?"
"Ah...yes," Matthew said. "I started to learn when Daisy was a baby, then taught her myself."
"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "I myself once met a fascinating community while travelling in the Far East, who communicated exclusively using a similar system. They used sigils instead of wand movements to cast their spells, but I never could get the hang of it."
*I'm not surprised* signed Daisy to her dad. *You need a very good brain to learn BSL, this old fart could never keep up.*
Dumbledore looked interestedly at Daisy's hand movements, then turned to Matthew while Daisy munched on a biscuit. "What did she say? Would you care to translate?"
"Ah...she said that she's surprised that there was something you couldn't master, she's heard that you can do anything," Matthew replied, then shot a warning glance at his daughter.
Dumbledore chuckled. "None of us are infallible, Miss Summerfield. We all have our limits. You and your father have done wonderfully well to overcome your condition in this spectacular manner."
Daisy, choosing a second biscuit, smiled innocently at Dumbledore then signed to her father, *Coward*.
"She says it was nothing. She's very modest about her skills," said Matthew. "Just like her handwriting. All of the family love getting letters from her, she writes so beautifully. But she goes awfully shy if anyone mentions it."
Daisy responded by throwing a cushion at her dad, raising another chuckle from Dumbledore. While Matthew was distracted by the cushion, Daisy's hand strayed towards the biscuit tray, reaching for a forbidden third treat. Noticing this with an amused look, Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Well, Miss Summerfield, I will have to inform your Professors to expect some excellent essays from your quill when you get to Hogwarts."
Daisy's hand froze over the biscuit tray at Dumbledore's words. Hogwarts? Her? She moved her hand back slowly as her father stared in shock at the Professor. Frowning, she signed at her dad, asking him to translate for Dumbledore.
"She says there must be some mistake, Professor. We've always assumed that she would never be able to attend. How will she be able to learn when she can't articulate spells out loud? You know about the extent of her condition, I assume?" Daisy nodded in agreement, looking at Dumbledore accusingly.
"My dear Matthew, I am very well acquainted with her condition. I was actually consulted by the team of Healers at St. Mungo's several times during Daisy's treatment, and they requested my assistance with casting the strongest Finite Incantatem I could muster as one of their attempts. I was obviously, and to my lasting regret, unsuccessful."
Dumbledore looked sincerely regretful at the memory, and looked apologetically at Daisy.
"I cannot express my sympathies enough for your condition, Daisy. However, I feel, as I have always felt, that Hogwarts is open to any student who has the magical ability, and more importantly wishes to learn. I will be nothing short of delighted if you choose to accept your place at Hogwarts."
With this, he withdrew from his robes the thick, yellowed envelope that Daisy thought she would never receive. Staring at the offered parchment, Daisy didn't know what to think. She'd accepted years ago that she would never be able to attend Hogwarts, and would probably never learn proper magic. Even her bursts of accidental magic were now few and far between. She'd sometimes wondered if her magic had recognised that she couldn't use spells, and had started to disappear.
And yet…the Professor was saying that it was possible after all. For the first time in a long time, Daisy started to imagine what it would be like to be away from home, go to classes, make friends her own age, see the famous grounds, explore the castle, be a normal Hogwarts student. Just like everybody else.
With a trembling hand, she reached out and took the parchment envelope. Written neatly was the address, so clear it couldn't be an accident or a mistake.
Daisy Summerfield
The Best Bedroom
27 Cherry Close
Shipley
Oxfordshire
Daisy looked up at Dumbledore's smiling face behind his beard, then over to her father, who was holding back tears of happiness.
"Are you sure this is possible, Professor?" asked Matthew, as if he couldn't quite believe it. "How will Daisy be able to perform the spells without speaking?"
"I will not lie to you both," Professor Dumbledore said. "It will be difficult, to be sure. You may find some branches of magic far more difficult than your peers. It will be years before any of the curriculum is truly centered around non-verbal magic...but in time, you may find…"
With a wave of his wand, Professor Dumbledore conjured a silver serving tray, complete with teapot and three tea cups and saucers. An exact replica of the one Matthew had produced.
"That you are more capable than you realize," Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "More to the point, Miss Summerfield, Hogwarts is a school. What sort of Headmaster would I be to turn away a student who wants to learn?"
At long last, Daisy truly believed she would be going. Smiling brilliantly, she signed one simple phrase to Dumbledore. Even without knowledge of the language, her look of gratitude was unmistakable.
*Thank you.*
xxxx
Daisy awoke to the sounds of her new dorm-mates starting to move about their morning routines. It took her a moment to recognise her surroundings, having rarely slept away from home before. As the previous day's events came back into her memory, she grinned to herself in anticipation of her first day at Hogwarts.
Digging out the letter she had started to her dad the night before, she added a new paragraph after her recounting of the train ride and Sorting.
You'll be glad to hear I've made a friend already! She's a girl in my dorm, Ginny Weasley. She's very nice, we spent most of the train ride together. We played the Bertie Bott's game, but she beat me when I wasn't brave enough to eat a brown one. I don't want to risk tasting cow poo, thank you very much.
The other two girls in the dorm aren't quite as nice - they made the usual mistake of thinking I'm deaf as well as mute. A quick ball of parchment to the head told them otherwise. Never mind, I suppose I'll give them another chance.
I'm going to go down for my first Hogwarts breakfast now. I hope it's as good as the feast last night! I miss you, I'm already looking forward to seeing you at Christmas.
Lots of love from your favourite daughter!
Daisy
Daisy looked up. Violet and Evelyn were exchanging morning greetings and unpacking their trunks, still in their pyjamas, messy-haired and yawning. Ginny was dressed in her robes, but she looked uneasy, surreptitiously trying to observe the clothes and possessions of the other girls. Daisy approached Ginny, waving a "good morning", with a questioning expression.
"Mm?"
Scribbling down a note, Daisy handed her parchment to Ginny.
"What's up? You look like you've seen a ghost. Well, I suppose you have, but I meant the scary kind."
Ginny read, blushing as she did so. "Um...er...I'll tell you on the way to breakfast."
Daisy nodded and dressed at top speed. She was lacing up her trainers while Ginny was pulling on her own socks.
Leaving Evelyn and Violet behind them, they walked down the spiral staircase and into the Common Room, passing a boy with a round face who was bending over a chair, seemingly attempting to retrieve a toad that had taken refuge underneath.
Ginny and Daisy squeezed through the portrait hole; the Fat Lady gave them a hearty "Cheerio, girls!" as they did so. They rounded a corner and Daisy gave Ginny another quizzical look.
Ginny took a deep breath. "Okay, you're probably going to think this is stupid, but... I was just looking at Violet and Evelyn's things, they all looked so nice and brand-new...do you think they're going to laugh when they see all my second hand stuff?"
Daisy raised her quill conspicuously and then pressed her parchment to a wall so she could write down a reply.
"You're right, I do think it's stupid."
Reading the note, Ginny looked caught between being amused and offended. Daisy took back the parchment.
"Who cares if your robes and books are second hand? I bloody don't. It's none of their business where your stuff came from. If they start to laugh about it, I think it says more about them than it does about you. Your robes don't look anywhere near as bad as you think they do. Anyway, I bet after two weeks in this place nobody will be able to tell the difference anyway."
Ginny nodded but didn't look convinced.
"And if they really want to make a problem with my friend, they'll find out just how useful silence can be when it comes to setting traps in a person's bed. I've had a lot of practice at this sort of thing." Daisy gave an evil smile to illustrate her point, and Ginny grinned back reluctantly. After Daisy gave Ginny a quick hug to illustrate her point, they carried on towards breakfast. Last night's arrival by Harry and Ron still seemed to be a popular topic of conversation, as several students they passed were swapping rumours of exactly what had taken place.
"I wonder what happened to the car," said Ginny as they walked. "Mum must have gone spare when they found out it was gone."
Daisy shrugged. She had still yet to meet Ginny's older brother--or the youngest of her older brothers, seeing as she had about a hundred of them--but was quite looking forward to getting the chance. The very idea of having enough guts to fly a car all the way to Hogwarts--Ron had a lot of nerve.
The Great Hall was not nearly so crowded as it had been at supper the evening before. Apparently, some students had already eaten and left, or else hadn't arrived yet. Daisy and Ginny took seats that were near the door. Reaching for a tureen of warm, steaming porridge, Daisy ladled herself a generous bowl, leaning over Ginny to grab a banana. Beside her, Ginny served herself a plate of sausages and fried eggs. Daisy noticed Ginny's eyes kept flickering towards the doors as they ate.
"Just like Mum makes," Ginny said, between bites of sausage. She frowned and sighed deeply. "I wish Ron hadn't taken that stupid car. Mum's going to be so angry with him."
"A sentiment that I agree with wholeheartedly, Miss Weasley."
Ginny froze with her fork halfway to her mouth and her ears began to turn red. Daisy looked up and saw Professor McGonagall looking sternly at Ginny, before handing them their timetables.
"Thank you, Professor," Ginny said in a tiny voice, her fork nearly frozen in midair. "Not that I know anything about where they got the car, or anything…"
Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows and her lip grew thinner. "Where they may or may not have obtained the car in question is none of my concern, Miss Weasley, nor yours. I hope that you yourself will be on your best behaviour while representing Gryffindor."
"Yes, Professor," Ginny nodded fervently, her face beet-red. Professor McGonagall nodded once, then moved down the table.
Ginny opened her timetable and read down it quickly. "Let's see...oh, Charms first with Professor Flitwick. That should be fun."
Daisy nodded. She had heard the name of the Professor before--Dad had always said that Professor Flitwick had been his favorite teacher at Hogwarts.
"Oh, God, here they come!" Ginny choked on a bite of egg. "I...er...oh!"
Daisy turned her head. Walking down the Gryffindor table were the two boys she recognised as receiving the heroes' welcome the previous evening, Ron and Harry. Turning back to Ginny, Daisy noticed that she had flushed red once again, and her eyes were fixed on the dark-haired boy talking to her brother. Grinning slightly at Ginny's reaction, Daisy returned to her porridge.
"Hi, Harry…" Ginny said in a squeaky voice. "Hi…"
Harry hadn't seemed to have noticed either of them. Instead, he and Ron took seats across from a second-year girl who was reading a thick book. Daisy rubbed Ginny's shoulder sympathetically, noticing her friend's crestfallen face. A moment later, the second-years were joined by the round-faced boy who'd been talking to his toad in the Common Room. The girl had bushy brown hair, and Daisy suddenly remembered Fred and George describing her on the train ride.
"That's Hermione," Ginny said quietly. "She's their best friend. The boy's Neville Longbottom. Ron's mentioned him too...oh, the mail!"
Daisy looked up--a hundred owls, maybe more, were flying overhead. Great-horned owls and screech owls and boreal owls...Daisy loved owls. One large barn owl dropped a parcel in front of Neville with a thud, while another owl clumsily fell into a jug on the table before collapsing with exhaustion. Ginny was closer to the commotion than Daisy, and suddenly acquired an expression of terror. Her face had gone white and her freckles stood out more than ever.
"Oh no!" Ginny whispered. "She's sent a Howler...we have to go. Now."
Without another word, Ginny pushed her plate away, grabbed Daisy's hand and began tugging her towards the doors. They had barely made it through the doors when Daisy heard an explosion.
"RONALD WEASELY! HOW COULD YOU HAVE BEEN SO STUPID! STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY EXPELLED YOU!"
Even in the Entrance Hall, Daisy and Ginny could hear the screeching of the Howler. Howlers were letters, specially charmed to magnify the sender's voice by about a hundred times over. Ginny covered her face with her hands, peeking through her fingers at Daisy.
"I've been there when she's recorded them for Fred and George before," she said from behind her hands, "but I didn't know she could make them so loud. Oh God, do you think people will know we're related? How quickly do name changes go through?"
Eyeing Ginny's vivid hair, Daisy pulled out a scrap of parchment.
"Sorry, but I think it's pretty obvious who his sister is. Don't worry, I'll protect you."
Ginny winced at the sound of her mother's magically-magnified shouts still echoing from the Great Hall, shaking her head slowly. Seeing that nothing could be done, Daisy scribbled another note.
"Should we go to class now?" Ginny read. "Yeah, probably. I won't be able to eat now with the Howler…"
"IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!"
Ginny sighed in relief as the voice died away, and together, she and Daisy walked up to their Charms class. They were the first ones there and took seats in the front of the room. More students filed in after them. Daisy could hear more conversations, only a few of which were in hushed tones.
"See the blonde girl? Isn't she the weird one from the Sorting? The one who's all silent?"
"What do you think is the matter with her? To make the Sorting Hat not be able to talk?"
It was Ginny's turn to look sympathetically towards Daisy, who was sitting with her head facing straight forward, trying to pretend she couldn't hear the whispers from her classmates. She hoped fervently that her own novelty factor would wear off quickly.
Ginny leaned over and whispered to Daisy, "Don't worry, I'll protect you." Daisy smiled slightly, despite herself.
As they all found their seats, Daisy started to wonder where the Professor was. To her shock, however, Professor Flitwick suddenly walked out from behind his desk - he had obviously been waiting for the class to assemble, but was so short that the desk had concealed him from view.
"Good morning, first-years!" Professor Flitwick squeaked, making those who had not yet noticed him jump. "Gryffindors and Huflepuffs, I do believe. Oh, wonderful!"
Professor Flitwick began class by taking the register, smiling at each new student as they declared themselves present. Daisy, of course, raised her hand instead of speaking. Professor Flitwick had obviously been forewarned to expect this, and continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary. A few students muttered amongst themselves at this, but were silenced by the Professor clearing his throat with a raised eyebrow.
His task completed, Professor Flitwick began speaking to the class at large. "Welcome to Charms. This class can teach you some of the most fascinating and useful magic you will find at Hogwarts, magic that you can use in your daily life. Something as simple as lighting one's wand to give light..."
He flicked his wand to demonstrate, and the class saw the tip of it light up like a torch.
"...or making objects fly..."
With a wave from the Professor's wand, several thick textbooks flew from the shelves around the room and arranged themselves neatly behind his desk, giving him a platform to stand on to allow himself to see over.
"...or even something quite spectacular."
Professor Flitwick pointed his wand at his desk. For a second or two, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the desk reared up on two of its legs like a horse, and proceeded to gallop around the classroom several times, eliciting gales of laughter from the class. Under the Professor's direction, the desk finally settled back in its correct location, with nothing on the top out of place.
"You see, Charms can be some of the most practical and useful everyday magic, but it can also be some of the most fun. However, we must always be careful with Charms that we cast carefully and in a controlled manner, or the results can be something quite severe."
At these words, his eyes rested on Daisy, and a look of sympathy briefly came onto his face. One of the Hufflepuff students tentatively raised her hand.
"Please, sir...is that what's happened to Daisy? Is that why she can't talk?"
Daisy felt Ginny bristle with anger next to her, but sighed resignedly as Professor Flitwick turned to her. Better to get it out in the open, I suppose.
"I dare say that that is something best asked to Miss Summerfield, but perhaps it would save time… Miss Summerfield, would it be acceptable for me to explain to the class the nature of your condition?"
Daisy nodded briefly, and felt Ginny take her hand under the table.
"Very well," said Professor Flitwick. "Miss Summerfield has, through no fault of her own, been afflicted by an overpowered Silencing Charm. As the name suggests, the charm makes the object, or in this case person, unable to make any sounds. Most unfortunately, Miss Summerfield's case appears to be permanent.
"Which is why we must always take great care when casting. You must never assume that any ill effects of your magic will either dissipate over time or can be reversed by a Healer. Most of the time, they can, but it is not a guarantee."
Professor Flitwick let the silence hang in the air. None of the students spoke. Daisy felt Ginny intertwine their fingers.
"Now," Professor Flitwick said. "While I urge caution, we won't be actively using magic just yet. We'll start with reading and knowing the theory. Now, does everyone have a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One?"
oooo
After making several notes about the Lumos charm and how to perform it, the first-years left the classroom, chattering merrily. Daisy packed her bag along with the rest of the class, lost in thought about the explanation Flitwick had given the class about her condition. She supposed it was better that everything was out in the open, but wished she hadn't had to be centre of attention while it was explained. She jumped slightly when Ginny touched her arm to get her attention.
"Are you okay?" Ginny stared at her, her eyes firm, her tone protective. Ginny stole a glance at the nearest student passing by, who happened to be Colin Creevey, almost daring him to say something. He remained silent and Daisy could see some tension in Ginny's shoulders ease. Daisy nodded, hoping her smile was convincing. Ginny didn't look entirely reassured, but clearly decided to drop the issue, and lead the way to find the Transfiguration classroom.
Five minutes later, after some helpful directions from Nearly Headless Nick, who happened to be floating by, the Gryffindor students were queued up outside Professor McGonagall's classroom alongside the first-year Ravenclaws. All chatter ended instantly as the professor opened her door and allowed them inside.
Entering the classroom, Daisy looked around, trying to see as much as she could. The room was brightly lit by tall windows, with the remaining walls showing various complicated-looking diagrams describing the magic of Transfiguration. Some appeared to be warnings against careless spellwork, including a portrait of a mournful-looking warlock who seemed to have had the bad luck of having his hair transfigured into a miniature field of buttercups.
After taking the register, Professor McGonagall addressed them all sternly.
"Transfiguration is perhaps the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "Anyone caught fooling around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.
"Transfiguration is, broadly speaking, the art of magically altering an object to change its shape in some way. This can be as simple as transfiguring one piece of crockery into another," Professor McGonagall continued, demonstrating the idea by picking up a china teacup from her desk and turning it into a wooden goblet with a tap of her wand. "Or something on a much larger scale."
Professor McGonagall pointed her wand at the tall windows, and the room was suddenly plunged into darkness. As the candles on a large chandelier flickered into life, the class saw that the glass windows had been replaced by a solid stone wall, engraved with magnificent carvings of lions. Several people in class made astonished noises, Colin Creevey in particular looked gobsmacked, his face shining with excitement in the candlelight. The professor restored the glass windows with another wave of her wand.
"Of course," Professor McGonagall concluded, "you should not expect to be transfiguring anything on that level quite yet. This morning, you will be attempting to transfigure a matchstick into a needle. If all of you will turn to the first chapter in your textbooks, you will see some useful notes on the theory behind this exercise. When you have read through the passage, you may begin."
There was a great clattering noise as the classroom full of students opened their books to the first chapter, then a quiet descended on them as they read. Occasionally, the scratching of quill on parchment could be heard as they took notes.
Daisy read through the passage on elementary Transfiguration nervously, raising her wand with a slightly shaking hand as she practised the wand movements the book described. This would be the first time Daisy had properly attempted magic with her wand, and she had no idea what to expect. Without meaning to, she placed her fingers to her throat. Beside her, Ginny was mumbling the words to herself as she read, waving her hand randomly in the air as she did.
Soon enough, some students collected a matchstick from Professor McGonagall and soon the room was full of students shouting the incantation. Daisy looked down at her matchstick and concentrated hard, raising her wand. She twirled it in a small circle before jabbing it towards the matchstick, just as the book described, and tried to say the incantation.
Nothing happened.
Biting the inside of her cheek, Daisy gave her head a little shake as if to clear it, and tried again.
Still nothing. Daisy looked over at Ginny, and saw that her face was slowly turning red as she concentrated hard on the matchstick. As Ginny shouted out the spell, her matchstick stood up on one end before falling back to the desk, still stubbornly wooden.
Ginny, however, was delighted.
"Did you see that? Something happened!" she said excitedly to Daisy. Daisy smiled, reaching for her parchment and quill.
"More than I managed to do. I think you flicked your wand up at the end though, try to follow through more. It's a jab, not a flick."
Ginny read the note, nodded and rolled up her sleeves, raising her wand again at the matchstick. Shouting the incantation once again, she gave her wand a twirl and a sharp jab towards the matchstick.
This time, the matchstick sparked briefly, before settling down on the desk. As both girls bent forwards over it, they noticed…
"Ooh! Look! It's gone all silver!"
Indeed, it had. While it was still definitely made of wood, Ginny's matchstick now looked like it had been painted a shiny silver colour, and as she looked closer, Daisy noticed that there was a small hole at one end. Ginny sat back, wearing an expression akin to a person who had just been given a large bag of galleons by a stranger. She stared, wide-eyed, at the wand in her hand.
"I'm doing it. I'm actually doing it."
Noticing Daisy's raised eyebrow, she elaborated, the words tumbling out of her in a rush.
"I mean, I know I'm a witch, I've always known, but Mum's never let me try anything on purpose with a wand before, and there's always that doubt in the back of your mind, isn't there, that even though my whole family is magic, I could always be a squib, but I'm not, I can actually do it…" she trailed off as she ran out of breath. Daisy leaned against Ginny and gave her a side-hug happily.
"You don't think I'm being stupid?" Ginny asked. "You know what I mean, don't you?"
Daisy raised her eyebrow again, not bothering with her parchment. Realising the point, Ginny turned redder than ever.
"Oops, sorry. I suppose you do know what I mean."
The corner of Daisy's mouth quirked upwards briefly. She probably knew better than most of the students in the school the doubting feeling that she wouldn't be able to do magic. Daisy bumped her shoulder against Ginny's, letting her know she was forgiven, and turned back to her matchstick. Telling herself sternly to focus, she raised the wand once again and concentrated. Twirling her wand, she shouted the spell silently, trying to force the words out while she jabbed her wand at the matchstick, and...
Nothing.
Her frustration must have shown on her face, as Professor McGonagall looked down at her sharply as she happened to walk past.
"Careful there, Miss Summerfield, do not expect too much of yourself so soon. Please remember, it is only the first day of classes. Miss Weasley, it looks like you have had some success, may I see your matchstick?"
"Daisy helped me too, Professor," Ginny said, nearly bouncing in her seat. "I wasn't getting the wand movements quite right, but she showed me where I was going wrong."
"Indeed?" Professor McGonagall examined the match-needle closely. "Would you please demonstrate, Miss Summerfield?"
Daisy nodded, raising her wand once again. She performed the twirl and jab, mouthing the spell as she did so. The matchstick stayed stubbornly inert on the desk. Both girls looked up at Professor McGonagall.
"I see," Professor McGonagall said quietly. "Your wand movements are correct, Miss Summerfield, and I can see from your notes that you understand the theory behind the spell. Perhaps just more practice, and I have complete confidence you will be able to cast this spell soon. Five points to Gryffindor for your success, Miss Weasley. And three points for you, Miss Summerfield, for assisting a fellow student."
Ginny grinned as Professor McGonagall walked away through the classroom, while Daisy smiled a little more uncertainly. Her stomach felt very tight.
"Eight points on our first day, that's not bad, is it?" said Ginny.
"Yeah, I suppose so. Feels a bit like she's just feeling sorry for me though, I can't do the spell."
"I don't think so. She's right, you did help me almost get it, and you clearly know what you're supposed to be doing."
Daisy nodded, feeling better. Behind them, they heard Professor McGonagall speaking to one of their classmates. As Daisy turned around, she saw it was the blonde girl whose wand she had retrieved during the boat ride.
"No, Miss Lovegood. I don't believe that asking your matchstick if it would prefer to be a needle will help you master this spell. It does not have a strong opinion on the matter."
Daisy and Ginny giggled at the professor's obvious confusion as the bell rang to signify lunch.
oooo
Daisy quickly found that her subjects at Hogwarts seemed to fall into two categories: those that emphasized spellwork and those that didn't. Lessons based on textbook learning, essay writing and practical, non-magic work such as Herbology, History of Magic and Astronomy were subjects she could excel in, since they featured little use of direct magic. She especially liked Herbology; the flowers they had to care for were far larger and more colourful than the ones in the flowerbed back at home.
However, when it came to lessons that did emphasize practical magic, things had not improved for Daisy since her disappointing first attempts at Transfiguration. Try as she might, she could not manage to make any spells work, even (from her perspective) screaming the incantation at the top of her lungs. It was the same in Charms, where Professor Flitwick had begun teaching the class the Lumos charm for lighting their wands. While the rest of the class were able to create beams of light of varying stability, and were having fun creating shadow puppets and creating bizarre faces in a darkened classroom, Daisy's wand stubbornly refused to light up.
Professor Flitwick, for his part, was unfailingly patient and quick to encourage Daisy in her efforts. Professor McGongall was stricter--but she didn't seem surprised by Daisy's lack of progress. This had led to a fair amount of whispering from her classmates--Professor McGonagall was noticeably harsher with several other students who were lagging behind.
Fortunately, Ginny was keeping up with the rest of the class, and was taking care to assist Daisy wherever she could. Conversely, Daisy noticed that Ginny was not a very focused essay writer and tended to get distracted easily. To counter this, Daisy made a point to help Ginny compose her essays and nudged her or threw balls of parchment when she noticed Ginny's attention wandering. Several times, Ginny caught these balls of parchment without looking and threw them back at Daisy, leading Daisy to wonder whether Ginny would be trying out for the Quidditch team when she was older.
The sport was certainly never far from Ginny's mind. By Thursday evening, she had given Daisy a very comprehensive verbal history of the Holyhead Harpies (whether Daisy had wanted to listen or not), hung a wizard poster of the team above her four-poster in the dormitory, and made it a point after finishing her homework to read books about famous Quidditch matches in the Common Room. Despite Ginny not being much of an essay writer, Daisy had spotted her scribbling away in a small black book when tucked up in her bed sometimes. Her diary, Daisy supposed.
After their rocky start, Daisy noticed that her and Ginny's dorm mates, Violet and Evelyn, were being extremely friendly with her, almost overly so. Daisy suspected they were trying to make up for their rudeness on the first night, but didn't really hold it against them. People had been making the same mistake about Daisy her whole life; she and her dad had used it to their advantage sometimes when visiting the Muggle world. All in all, relations between the four Gryffindor girls were fairly good, if still somewhat formal.
It was Friday morning now and Daisy was tucking into a bowl of cereal in the Great Hall. Across from her, Ginny was checking their timetable for the day, while serving herself a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs. As the post owls arrived, Ginny let out a groan that was almost drowned out by the rushing of hundreds of wings overhead.
Daisy kicked her lightly under the table and raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. Over the course of their first week, Ginny had quickly learned to understand some of Daisy's silent expressions.
"We've got double Potions first thing," said Ginny. "My brothers always go on about how foul Snape is, suppose we'll get to see it for ourselves. Ron said he's especially horrible to Ha…Harry." Ginny stammered and blushed slightly when saying Harry's name, and Daisy was amused once again at the enormity of Ginny's crush.
Daisy understood Ginny's trepidation. They had both heard the older students complaining in dark voices in the Common Room about Professor Snape, with "greasy-haired sadist" and "evil old git" being some of the most polite terms being thrown around. Despite this, Daisy felt cautiously optimistic about the class. After all, Potions seemed to be less about practical spell work and more about understanding the theories and following instructions, so she hoped she would be able to get good results. Hoping to take Ginny's mind off unpleasant teachers and hopeless crushes, Daisy scribbled a note.
"Don't worry too much, at least we've got this afternoon off. Want to explore some of the grounds?"
Ginny read the note and smiled. "Yeah, that sounds good. Fred and George told me there's all sorts of secret passages and stuff, we should see if we can find something they never have."
As she spoke, one of the school owls, a striking horned owl, fluttered to land in front of Daisy, with a letter tied to its leg. As Daisy gently removed the letter, the owl eyed the bacon on Ginny's plate hopefully.
"She's magnificent," said Ginny, giving the bird a piece of bacon. "Do you think they have names?"
Daisy shrugged, smiling. She'd recognised the handwriting on the envelope as her father's, so was looking forward to reading his reply to her first ever letter home. Ginny was studying the owl thoughtfully.
"Persephone. No, Athena. Hmm, not quite right. How about Caresse?"
The owl looked curiously at Ginny while chewing her bacon, while Daisy giggled at Ginny's eclectic taste in names.
"Ah no, I've got it. Dorothea."
Daisy didn't know it was possible for an owl to look disgusted, but there was no other word to describe the look it gave Ginny.
Still giggling, Daisy nudged Ginny again and indicated they should get going.
"Yeah, I suppose so." She turned to the owl as they got up from the table and swung their bags over their shoulders. "Thanks, Dorothea!"
As they left the Great Hall, Ginny was the recipient of a wing cuffing her over the head. Both girls laughed as they headed towards the dungeons.
oooo
Even though they had left breakfast in plenty of time, Daisy and Ginny quickly realised their mistake. With most of the school still tucking in to the spread in the Great Hall, there were very few other students around who could tell them the way to the Potions dungeon. The two of them spent a good ten minutes wandering around the dungeons trying to find the correct classroom. Daisy wished they could just ask an older student, but whenever they saw a group walking past both girls' nerves failed them in the face of the intimidating teenagers.
Eventually, Ginny put her back against a wall and slid to the floor in frustration. "You need a bloody map to find your way anywhere in this place!"
Daisy nodded, looking around the gloomy corridor, trying to see anything distinguishable by the light from the flickering torches in their sconces. Suddenly hearing chattering voices coming from nearby, Daisy nudged Ginny with her foot and beckoned her to follow. As they got closer to the voices, Daisy recognised the high-pitched enthusiasm of Colin Creevey in amongst the babble, and breathed a sigh of relief as they hurried towards the noise.
As early as they had set out from breakfast, they had only just joined the back of the line outside the classroom when the door opened and a sallow-faced wizard emerged, his face built for a permanent frown. Silence quickly fell on the waiting students as he stood outside the open door and, without a word, they began to file inside. The professor, whom Daisy assumed was Professor Snape, glowered down at each student as they went past. Daisy noticed that his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Ginny's vivid Weasley hair, and they walked past him into the classroom as quickly as possible.
The Potions dungeon was as different from the sunlit classrooms that Daisy had seen so far as it was possible to be. Instead of tall windows lighting the room brightly, the dungeon was dank, windowless and lit only by sputtering candles that seemed to be spread too thinly in the large dungeon. The effect was rather foreboding, and Daisy found herself constantly glancing into the dim corners of the room, where the weak candlelight couldn't quite reach, as if expecting some unseen menace to leap out to catch them unawares.
Professor Snape's reputation had clearly spread amongst the rest of the class, because everybody had filed into the dungeon and taken their seats in near silence and were now facing the teacher's desk nervously. Professor Snape strode to the front of the class and surveyed them all with an impassive face before taking the register. He paused, however, when calling out Daisy's name and getting no response.
"Summerfield. Summerfield…"
Daisy glanced at Ginny nervously, waving vigorously to try and attract Professor Snape's attention. Finally, Snape looked up from his desk and noticed Daisy's arm in the air. He gave a small snort that sounded almost amused, before continuing down the register. Daisy was sure she didn't imagine the sneer that crossed Snape's face as he called out the last name: "Weasley."
"Welcome to Potions," Professor Snape put aside his quill and surveyed the class, addressing them in a low voice. "In this dungeon, you will learn that Potions is possibly the branch of magic that requires the most subtlety and finesse, and that those who do not have the required patience and care will invariably fail.
"It is also possibly the most dangerous magic you will study. Brews will be made in this dungeon that can save a life. Brews will also be made that can end one. Careless work when brewing a potion can be disastrous. Anybody caught deliberately making potions incorrectly will be treated most severely."
The class sat in nervous silence after this pronouncement. After the longest minute Daisy could remember, Professor Snape cleared his throat and ordered them to read the first chapter of the textbook, before setting them to work mixing a paste for curing mouth ulcers.
The class worked in near-complete silence, the only sounds being the chopping of herbs or the gurgling of boiling potion. Professor Snape stalked through the class examining their mixtures, sneering at almost everybody. As he reached their desk, Daisy bent over her book, eager to avoid his gaze. Beside her, Ginny set diced katniss on a dish of her scales. Professor Snape loomed over them and narrowed his eyes, directing his attention to her equipment. In a flash, he seized Ginny's brass scales and the herbs spilled out.
"Miss Weasley, how do you expect to weigh ingredients accurately with a set of scales in such poor condition?"
As he spoke, Professor Snape held Ginny's scales up for the entire class to see. Even in the dim lighting, it was apparent that there were several dents and chips in the scales.
"Do you realise that if a weight is damaged like this, it no longer weighs the same as it should?" Professor Snape continued. He gave a twisted smile. "Do you realise that when brewing potions, accuracy is paramount?"
Ginny avoided eye contact with the professor, but Daisy could see two red patches in her cheeks. Unfortunately, Professor Snape wasn't finished. He ran his fingers against the rest of the equipment Ginny had set out on their desk.
"Dented weights, dull knives, protective gloves that will provide no such thing," Professor Snape said as he picked up Ginny's textbook. He opened the front cover and gave another awful smile. "Is your first name Charlie, Miss Weasley?"
"No," Ginny said in a tiny voice. "It isn't."
"No, sir, Miss Weasley." Professor Snape said icily. "Come to my class adequately equipped in the future, or there will be consequences. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." Ginny straightened up, her eyes shining. "Thank you, sir."
Professor Snape dropped the textbook back onto the desk and turned his eyes to Daisy. Daisy couldn't help but stare at him. How could he have put Ginny on the spot like that? Everyone was staring and all the Slytherins were laughing.
"Do you have anything to say on the subject, Miss Summerfield?" Professor Snape asked. "Clearly not."
Daisy flinched backwards as if she'd been slapped, but Snape merely smirked at them both before continuing through the dungeon. Embarrassment turned into fury and Daisy, incensed, began mouthing every swear word and unflattering description she could think of about the professor. Ginny caught her eye and gave a small smile.
"Careful," she whispered. "for all you know, he knows how to lip read."
Still fuming, but realising the truth of Ginny's words, Daisy picked up her mortar and pestle and resumed mixing. The rest of the lesson dragged slowly, while Daisy allowed her mind to wander into pleasant fantasies involving Snape, the curse Incarcerous, and several sharp knives.
oooo
Ginny was very quiet after leaving the Potions dungeon. Daisy knew how she felt, still feeling the twinges of Snape's verbal barbs during the lesson. Stepping out into the bright sunlight of the grounds felt fantastically free after the oppressive dungeon, and Daisy felt her mood lift slightly as she led the way towards the lake. Ginny, unfortunately, didn't seem to be so affected, and limited her communication to shrugs and brief nods in response to Daisy's pointing towards a small sandy bank by the lakeside.
As the girls seated themselves on the sand still warm from the September sun, Daisy happily kicked off her shoes and pulled off her socks. Curling her bare toes into the soft sand, Daisy leaned her head back and smiled. Ginny, however, sat and wrapped her arms around her knees, staring dejectedly into the surface of the lake a few feet away.
Daisy nudged Ginny in the calf with her bare toes, trying to elicit a response. Ginny stirred slightly without looking up. When she finally spoke, her voice was very small.
"I told you. I told you people would notice all my battered old stuff."
Daisy's heart sank. Ginny was right, of course. They hadn't even been at Hogwarts a week, and Ginny's worst fear was starting to come true, because of a professor, no less. The poor girl was a picture of misery, resting her chin on her knees while she hugged herself. Daisy pulled out a roll of parchment and quill, both of which she had taken to carrying around in her robes.
"I'm not sure Snape counts as people. I didn't really believe all the stories about him, but it looks like people were being too easy on him, if anything."
"Too right. I can't believe he was such a git to me," Ginny said. "To both of us, actually."
"You're too kind to him, only calling him a git. I'd call him an arsehole, but at least arseholes are useful."
This remark finally raised a snort of laughter from Ginny, and Daisy smiled. Ginny scratched her chin thoughtfully.
"True, it would be an insult to arseholes everywhere. So what can you call him?"
"Hmm, something ugly and pointless...the male nipple?"
"That works," Ginny said. "Snape the male nipple. Greasy old Nipple-head."
Both girls collapsed into giggles at this, Daisy lying back on the sand, Ginny finally relaxing and sitting comfortably on the little beach. As they recovered, Daisy remembered the letter she had received that morning, and fished it out of her robes.
"Oh, is that from your dad?" asked Ginny, noticing the envelope. Daisy nodded, turning the envelope over and breaking the seal eagerly. She sat up and scooted closer to Ginny, so that they could read the letter together. Ginny smiled at the implied trust and began to read aloud in a gruff, exaggerated voice:
"'Dear Daisy,' --There you go, he still remembers your name," Ginny said as Daisy shook with laughter. "Well done, Daisy's Dad. 'I'm glad to hear you're settling in well, and well done for being sorted into Gryffindor!' A man of fine taste, clearly. Hmm, let's see what else…"
As Ginny read the letter, and became more absorbed in doing so, Daisy got an idea. Grinning slightly to herself, Daisy reached down and began to gently untie the shoelaces on Ginny's trainers. She was determined to get Ginny to understand the joys of exploring barefoot.
"'It's great to hear you've made a friend already, I knew you'd fit right in. Ginny sounds like a lovely girl,' --He's right, I am!" Ginny declared, with a boastful smile. She didn't seem to notice that her shoelaces were completely undone. "'I've worked with her dad occasionally before. Arthur Weasley is a bit clueless when it comes to Muggles, but he's an awfully nice chap.' Intelligent man, your dad, Daisy."
Daisy smiled and leaned back to read more of the letter, and then turned her attention back to Ginny's trainers. Slowly, she eased off Ginny's right shoe--it was much more scuffed than her own--and turned her attention to Ginny's left shoe.
"'I miss having you around here, it's much too quiet without you,' Ginny continued. 'I haven't quite got out of the habit of looking around corners to make sure you're not waiting to jump out at me yet…' Daisy, is there a reason you're trying to take off my socks?"
Daisy froze, caught in her actions. Obviously, she was not as gentle as she thought. She looked up at Ginny sheepishly, but the other girl was smiling indulgently. Daisy shrugged, smiling, then abandoned all subtlety and cheerfully tugged Ginny's socks off, leaving them both barefoot on the sand. Placing Ginny's shoes out of her reach and tucking her socks into her robe pocket, Daisy gave her a taunting grin. Mine now.
Ginny rolled her eyes, but smiled as she returned to the letter. "'I can't wait to see you at Christmas. Hope you're still having loads of fun, but make sure you stay out of trouble. Lots of love, Dad.' He seems nice."
Daisy nodded, then, without warning, bounced to her feet, seized both pairs of shoes and shot off running across the grounds, giggling.
"Oi!" Ginny protested. "Where do you think you're going?"
Daisy ignored her and continued running. The grass was soft under her bare soles and lightly ticklish. The afternoon sun was wonderfully warm and Daisy laughed. She could hear Ginny behind her, but she'd have her fun first.
"Daisy! Come back, you bloody idiot!" Ginny's words would have been angry, but Daisy could hear the laughter in her voice as she chased her across the grounds.
Daisy looked over her shoulder--Ginny had almost caught up to her. She stuck her tongue out, but the moment of teasing was all that Ginny needed to catch up to her. Ginny reached for her shoes and jabbed Daisy in the ribs when she tried to hold them above her head. Daisy raised Ginny's shoes even higher and she was just enough taller that Ginny couldn't reach, even on tiptoe. Ginny poked her in the ribs and squeezed her side and Daisy squirmed but didn't let go of Ginny's shoes.
As they were fighting over the shoes, both girls heard a deep, booming bark ring out nearby. Daisy dropped the shoes in fright, and looked around wildly. In the corner of her eye, she saw Ginny triumphantly snatch her fallen shoes from the grass and pull them back onto her bare feet.
Bounding over the lawn was...the biggest dog that Daisy had ever seen. A huge, black boarhound, barking its head off and running right towards them!
Daisy felt herself starting to shake with fright, and instinctively scrambled to stand behind Ginny. Daisy put a hand on Ginny's shoulder. The dog trotted to a halt in front of them, panting, and to Daisy's surprise, Ginny immediately started cooing at the beast.
"Oh, isn't he gorgeous? Look how beautiful he is! Who's a big, beautiful boy?" she said to the dog in a baby voice, reaching to scratch him behind the ears.
Daisy couldn't believe Ginny's recklessness. The dog was easily as tall as Ginny and looked like it could have taken off her head in one bite if it felt like it, but Ginny was acting as if it was a cute little puppy. She began to back away. Her shoes were where she dropped them, about ten feet away--on the other side of the big, giant boarhound.
Ginny looked around, noticing that Daisy was nervously keeping her distance. Her bright expression faltered.
"Are you okay? Do you not like dogs, or something?"
Keeping her eyes on the dog's enormous teeth, Daisy shook her head vigorously. She took another step back. Her toes curled over a root. They needed to get away from here. The dog was so, so big. But how could she get Ginny away from the dog--the big, huge boarhound, with giant teeth--without getting any closer to it?
"I don't think there's anything you have to worry about," Ginny said. "This is Fang. My brothers told me about him. He won't hurt you."
Daisy wasn't quite prepared to take Ginny's word for it, given the size of Fang's, well, fangs. She kept a careful distance, ready to grab Ginny's arm and pull her away if necessary.
"Oi, back, Fang, get back!"
Hagrid, the gamekeeper, was walking towards them. Daisy was struck again at just how large the man was, but he, at least, seemed to have an appropriate reaction to the giant boarhound. Ginny smiled at Hagrid and introduced herself and Daisy, who managed a small, nervous smile while keeping an eye on Fang.
"Nice to meet yeh both. I've heard about yeh from your brother Ron, Ginny. He's always down here with his friends Harry and Hermione," said Hagrid. Fang had finally left Ginny alone and was now standing faithfully at Hagrid's heels. Daisy caught a faint pink tinge in Ginny's cheeks at the mention of Harry's name, and it looked like Hagrid noticed too, as his beetle-black eyes crinkled and bushy beard shifted upwards.
Seeking to change the subject, Ginny pointed to the pink watering can Hagrid was carrying, which was decorated with yellow flowers. "What's that for, Hagrid? Are you helping Professor Sprout with something today?"
"Wha's that?" Hagrid asked. "Nah, not today. This is for my pumpkins. Yeh can come an' have a look if yeh want."
Ginny chatted with Hagrid almost nonstop on the walk to his hut, as the gamekeeper asked about the elder Weasley brothers, particularly Charlie, whom he had apparently been friendly with during Charlie's own Hogwarts years. Hagrid was delighted to hear about Charlie's work with dragons, while Ginny in turn learned a few stories about Charlie that would no doubt become blackmail material next time she needed a favour.
As they rounded Hagrid's hut and entered his vegetable garden, Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. Daisy, who was still more focused on keeping as far away from Fang as possible, bumped into her. Looking up, she saw what had caused Ginny to stop, and let out a silent gasp.
Pumpkins. Not ordinary pumpkins like Daisy had seen before on Muggle farms with her dad, these pumpkins were nearly as tall as Daisy herself.
"Hagrid, these are enormous! How on earth have you managed to get them so huge?" Ginny was walking around the nearest pumpkin, prodding it gently. She raised an eyebrow as she noticed Hagrid glance shiftily at a large pink umbrella propped up nearby. Daisy giggled. "An Engorgement Charm?"
Hagrid busied himself with his watering can. "I dunno what yeh're talking about. I've not had a wand in years. I've only been giving 'em plenty of sun, water and compost, I definitely never asked Professor Flitwick to show me how to do an Engorgement Charm, and certainly didn' ask Professor Sprout about if they're still safe if they've had magic done on 'em." He glanced at the girls and winked.
Ginny grinned while Daisy gave Hagrid a mock-stern glare, before collapsing into giggles again. "You've done a good job on them, at least. Biggest I've ever seen, by far!"
As they wandered around the pumpkin patch, Daisy noticed that Ginny kept shooting furtive glances towards the castle, as if trying to see if anyone was approaching. Hagrid clearly noticed, too.
"Yeh looking for someone Ginny?" Hagrid asked. "Yer brother, maybe? Or someone else?"
"No!" Ginny blurted. "What makes you think that?"
There was something in the way that Hagrid's eyes twinkled. They looked like two shiny black beetles.
Fang gave a happy bark and rolled over onto his back, his paws dangling loosely in the air.
"Mad dog, he is," Hagrid muttered. "An' a coward to boot. I saw the way yeh were acting, Daisy. Yeh don't need to worry 'bout him though. Fang don't bite."
Daisy managed a timid smile. Fang did seem friendly enough, if a bit...oversized.
"Yer gonna want to get goin'," Hagrid said. "Ginny's stole yer shoes and she's halfway back to the castle."