Snape leads us out of the classroom and down a narrow, dark hall, his black trench coat billowing behind him. I notice the other classrooms as we pass, and even hear a large bang coming from one of them, and then a yelp that sounds distinctly like Malfoy's voice. I turn, puzzled, to Malfoy walking behind me, perfectly silent. He raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.
"Hey," whispers one of the students I don't recognise. "I'm Theo."
He's handsome, with a strong jaw and dark hair, his shirt and blazer so perfectly laundered and pressed they could be straight off the rack. He holds out a hand. I take it and shake.
"Astoria," I introduce myself.
Snape opens a door and gestures us inside. We file in silently. The room has similar bones to the last, but is filled with different things. There are more books here, hundreds, each bound in leather, some falling apart. Spare quills and rolls of parchment are neatly stacked, taking up almost an entire bookcase.
There are fewer seats here, and so we're forced to sit closer together. I end up beside Draco. Snape stands behind the teacher's desk, just as he had in the other classroom.
"Miss Greengrass," he says, "if you do not wish to be bound to each person in this room by secrecy, a secrecy that will last for as long as you live, this is your chance to leave. Walk away now, or accept the commitment you must make."
I frown. This is even more cult-like than I had expected. For a moment, I wonder if any of the rumours are really true — the satanic rituals, the blood pacts. For a moment, I'm scared. A few working shifts each week doesn't seem so unmanageable anymore, not compared to anything dark I might be asked to do here. The Slytherins had seemed so mystical, so untouchable by the light of day. But down here with the chill, the inescapable silence between words, it all seems more sinister. I glance down. I've almost decided to stand from my seat and leave. To return to literature, to my dorm, to exhaustion and dinners at Luna's where the scariest thing could be Rolf's attempt at fried tofu.
But then something changes. Draco's leg brushes against my own, his knee clad in denim against mine bare below my skirt. It sends a strange tingling sensation shooting up my thigh. I let out a silent gasp at the contact, and can't help but glance at Draco, even with Snape's eyes still glaring at me. Draco looks back at me with raised eyebrows, like he's daring me to go, to admit defeat.
"I'm not leaving," I say quietly.
Snape's lip curls. "Thank you for finally deciding." He looks at the others. "Get ready."
They all begin fussing at their collars, each retrieving a bizarre circular pendant on a gold chain, completely identical. Snape stands beside my desk and speaks to me quietly.
"You're probably wondering how we manage to fit sixteen hours of lessons into the twenty-four hour day, with time still left for sleeping, eating, homework, assignments… Recreation." his lip curls at the word. "You're probably wondering how we find the time."
He retrieves another necklace from his coat pocket, hangs it from two fingers in front of me. I study it, admiring the small hourglass in the centre, the way the gold catches the light.
"This, Miss Greengrass, is a time-turner. The technology was patented by a member of the Seven, more than one hundred years ago, though time-turners have been in use for centuries. I won't tell you the creator's name, though you would no doubt recognise it if I did. It has been kept secret from almost everybody in the world. No easy feat." He places the necklace carefully on my desk. "Countless Slytherins have successfully protected this secret, since the days of Salazar himself. If anybody outside of this room found out about it, it would cause a chaos unfathomable even to the most active of imaginations. And if you personally let something slip, rest assured your punishment will be even worse. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes," I whisper, taking the golden chain between my fingers.
"Sir, less than a minute to go," Theo warns, checking his watch.
Snape retrieves an identical watch, also. It's a men's Cartier, vintage nearing antique, but kept in impeccable condition. I recognise the same one on everyone else's wrist, as though we have a compulsory uniform of accessories. Snape places it on the desk, beside the time-turner.
"Put it on, Miss Greengrass. On my command, slowly and deliberately turn the central circle of the time-turner one full rotation. Only one."
His sense of urgency makes me nervous. I fumble at the clasp of the time-turner, struggling to hook it closed at the nape of my neck. The watch's ticks seem to magnify in volume, and still I can't get the damn necklace on.
"Malfoy," Snape says.
Draco huffs, and before I know it, his fingers close around my own. I withdraw, suddenly shy, as he fastens the chain for me, the contact sending goosebumps across my skin.
"Thank you," I murmur, my cheeks turning red.
I have more luck with the watch, but haven't even secured the excess strap before Snape says, "Now."
I reach for the pendant, and turn it just as Snape said to.
Instantly, there's a strange lurching sensation, as though a hook is tugging at my navel. The room around me begins to spin, to blur, to be ripped apart. Somebody screams — it might be me. I feel a reassuring hand graze against my own. It leaves just as quickly as it came, and the world rights itself once more.
My stomach heaves. I have the horrible nausea I get with long car rides, boat journeys, and spinning around. Snape is still stood right in front of me, and for an awful moment I think I'm going to vomit all over him.
"Somebody get her a jar," Theo calls out.
I ignore him and stumble to my feet, sprinting for the door.
"No!" Snape shouts, but I run out into the hall, hand clasped against my mouth and searching for a bathroom.
My stomach goes again, and I know I'm not going to make it. Out of desperation, I push open the first door I come across, and spew all over the ground.
"So this is where it happens," Snape says.
I glance up, confused. I've arrived at yet another classroom. Snape is stood by the blackboard, drawing something that looks like an architectural blueprint in chalk. I glance behind me, then back to Snape, wondering how he got here so fast. And who are these other students? I thought he only taught the Seven.
As I glance around, my mouth drops open, and my stomach lurches again. The students in the room are the Seven.
And there, in the centre of the first row, staring right back at me with the same expression of horror, is myself.