-Author's Note:
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"There, look."
"Where?"
"Next to the tall, lanky boy"
"The one with the bushy hair?"
"Yeah"
"Next to the tall kid with the red hair?."
"The little girl"
"Wearing the glasses?"
"Yes that one"
"Did you see her face?"
"Did you see her scar?"
"Do you think she remembers anything?"
"Not sure I mean she was only a baby"
"She must be so cool"
"Do you think so?"
"Why don't you get your little sister Rebecca to be her friend?"
"Now that's an idea"
"Yeah but wasn't she sorted into Hufflepuff"
"Yeah, but I'm glad I wouldn't want her in Ravenclaw with me, she's such a crybaby at times and she's definitely got a brain disorder. She didn't know why the thigh was on a chicken"
"Wait what?"
"Seriously?"
Whispers followed Jane from the moment she left the safety of the common room the next morning. People queuing outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at her, or doubled back to pass her in the corridors again, staring. Jane wished they wouldn't, because she
was trying to concentrate on finding her way to classes.
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 doors that wouldn't open unless you asked 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. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other and Jane was sure the coats of armour could walk.
The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop waste-paper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose and screech,
"GOT YOUR CONK!"
Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Jane, Ron and Jack managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door which unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, and was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose and was threatening to lock
them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.
Filch owned a cat called 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 just one toe out of line, and she'd 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 of many to give Mrs Norris a good kick.
And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the lessons themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Jane quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.
They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets.
Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learnt how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and found out what they were used for.
Easily the most boring lesson was History of Magic, which was the only class taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff- room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.
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 Jane's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.
Professor McGonagall was again different. Jane had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. 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. Theywere all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realised they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time.
After making 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 two people had been able to make any difference to their matches. Hermione Bishop and Jack Granger. Hermione had achieved the smallest transifiration first and had been proudly boasting off the fact that she had turned her match silver to Professor McGonagall, when Jane and Ron had noticed Jack's match and had very loudy remarked how it had not only gone silver but it was also now pointed at one end.
Hermione had scowled at the trio as Professor Mcgonagall came over and exaimed Jack's match. She gave Jack a rare smile.
The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming 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 this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell 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 full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.
Jane was very relieved to find out that she wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't had any idea that they were
witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.
Friday was an important day for the trio of friends. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.
"What have we got today?" asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.
"Double Potions with the Slytherins,"said Jane as she read from her timetable Ron groaned. "Snape's Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them" he explained
"Well we'll be able to see if it's true." relied Jack
"Wish McGonagall favoured us," said Jane.
Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn't stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.
Just then, the post arrived. Jane had got used to this by now, but it had given her a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps.
Hedwig hadn't brought Jane anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble her ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Jane's plate.
Jane tore it open at once.
Dear Jane, (it said, in very neat, slanted, cursive handwriting)
I know you get Friday afternoons of , so would you like to come and have a
cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week.
Send us an answer back with Hedwig.
Professor Dumbleore
P.S you will fine my office on the seventh floor, a short distance away from your Common Room, It is hidden by a Gargole Statue. The Password is Rhubarb and Custard.
Jane borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled on the back of the note:
Yes, please, see you later
The Hedwig took off again.
It was lucky that Jane had tea with Professor Dumbledore to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to her so far.
At the start-of-term banquet, Jane had got the idea that Professor Snape disliked her. But by the end of the first Potions lesson, Jane knew she'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike her – he hated her.
Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.
Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the register, and like Flitwick, he paused at Jane's name.
"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Jane Potter. Our new – celebrity."
Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black, 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. Jane, Ron and Jack exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Bishop was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Jane thought hard, Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? She glanced at
Ron, who looked as stumped as she was, Jack seemed to be lost in thought, trying to remember something. Hermione Bishop's hand had shot into the air.
"I don't know, sir," said Jane after a moments pause. Snape's lips curled into a sneer.
"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything."
"Never said it was" muttered Jane but Snape ignored her, just like he ignored Hermione's hand.
"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, and Jack looked like he had an idea as his eyes lit up in recognition but Jane didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. She tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.
"I don't know, sir." Jane replied
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"
Jane forced herself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. She had looked through her books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect her to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi? Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling. Jack looked at Jane, it was obvious he knew but Jane was confused.
"I don't know," said Jane quietly. 'I thought they were the same thing"
A few people laughed; Jane caught Jacks eye and Jack winked. Were they the same thing. Snape, however, did not pleased.
"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, you are correct, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment.
Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, and smart black suit, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush
snake fangs, criticising almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like.
He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt his cauldron into a twisted blob and tis potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes.
Within seconds, the whole class were standing on their stools while Neville, who had been
drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Jack who had been working on the table behind Neville.
"You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's a point you've lost for Gryffindor."
"THAT IS TOTALLY UNFAIR I WAS PAYING ATTENTION TO MY OWN POTION. YOUR THE TEACHER ITS YOUR JOB TO TELL HIM WHEN HES MAKING A MISTAKE NOT MINE" cried Jane, her temper flaring up immediatly. People laughed but Snape had paled significantly.
"Another five points from Gryffindor Potter" sneered Snape
Jane opened her mouth to argue, but Ron stepped on her foot.
"Don't push it," he muttered. "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."
As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Jane's mind was racing and her spirits were low. In her first potions's lesson she'd lost six points for Gryffindor. Why did Snape hate her so much?
"Cheer up," said Ron. "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Dumbledore with you?"
"Me too, I've heard so much about him. I want to know if its ture. Apparently he's a genius" Jack added.
At quarter to three they left the common room and headed along the corrords that made up the seventh floor. Looking for the gargole statue. Ten minutes later they found it. They told the gargole the statue and it slid to one side. A spiral staircase started to rise up. They steped on and allowed themselves to be carried to the office door. Jane knocked and waited to be allowed in.
The office was divided into three main areas as well as a loft. The first area of the office contained dozens of cabinets, and tables filled with strange lookinginstruments.
There was also a large, grand looking fireplace.
The second area contained the Headmaster's desk and chair and was surrounded by bookcases.
The third area was a small sitting area located behind the desk.
Then their was the loft, which was accessed by flights of steps on both sides of the desk area, it contained a telescope.
There was also another small flight of steps on the loft that lead even higher up, providing a bird's eye view of the office.
Dumbledore's office was by far one of the most interesting rooms the trio had been in... It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tainted wizard's hat — the Sorting Hat.
Dumbeldore was sat in a large armchair in the small sitting area, where a smaller fireplace sat, he was smiling at him. A bright, red and gold bird sat on a high perch behind his chair.
"Welcome, I see you have brought you're own guests Jane"
"This is Ron Weasley and Jack Granger" said Jane introducing each boy.
"Welcome, come and sit down and make yourself at home" Dumbledore said warmly, "This is Fawkes, my pheonix" he added when he noticed Jack staring at the bird. At the mention of his name Fawkes came a soft musical cry.
Dumbeldore then waved his wand and boiling water was suddenly pouring itself out of a large kettle handing over the fire and into a large teapot and an assortment of little sandwiches and cakes were placing themselves neatly onto a plate.
"Well now how has your first week been, are you settling in alright?" Dumbeldore asked as tea, milk and sugar began adding themselves to each cup.
The trio at first nervous to be spending time alone with their headteacher soon relaxed and began enjoying they told Professor Dumbledore all about their first lessons. And about how they had finally managed to navigate the many corridors in the school.
Fawkes let out musical cries every now and again as they talked, almost as if he was agreeing and disagreeing with their statemnts.
The trio were delighted to hear Dumbledore call Filch 'that old git'.
"But don't repeat that please" he said sternly but with a smile, and they all nodded vigorously and giggled. "Mr Filch came to Hogwarts many years ago. He was in deperate need of employment so the previous headmaster provided it. I havent' the heart to dismiss him"
Jane told Dumbledore about Snape's lesson. Professor Dumbledore like Ron, told Jane not to worry about it, that Snape was not in the habit of showing any of the students that he liked them.
"But he seemed to really hate me"
"Oh I don't think so" said Dumbledore calmly, "why should Professor Snape hate you?' Yet Jane couldn't help thinking that Dumbledore did not quite meet her eyes when he said that.
"How are your brothers William and Charlie?' Dumbeldore asked Ron. "William if I remember had a talent for complicated magic and Charlie had a real talent with magical creatures."
Jane wondered if Dumbeldor ehad changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Dumbledore all about Charlie's work with dragons, and Jack fed Fawkes some of his favourite treats, of red peper cookies,
"Only a few mind" Dumbledore had told him, Jane picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from 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 in fact been emptied the same day.
'But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you
know what's good for you,' said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.
Jane remembered Ron telling her and Jack on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.
"Um Professor Dumbledore sir" said Jane, interrupting the conversation "That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday. Do you think it was happening when we were there"?
There was no doubt about it, Dumbeldore definitely didn't meet Jane's eyes this time.
"It is not polite to interrupt a conversation Jane. If you must interrupt say excuse me and wait for one of the people talking to acknowledge you" Dumbledore said and then he turned back to Ron "please continue Mr Weasley"
Jane read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Professor Dumbledore had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the
thieves were looking for?
As Jane, Ron and Jack walked down to the great hall for dinner, Jane thought that none of the lessons she'd had so far had given her as much to think about as tea with Professor Dumbledore. Had Dumbledore collected that package just in time? Where was it now?
And did Dumbledore know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Jane?
