Thanks, Dicere! Love your fics – I was thrilled to see you liked mine! Now,
the quotes are direct, because you have to love Snape's line. Everything
else- complete rubbish, just like the other two chapters. What did we
expect, hmmm?
Cheers . . . hope you enjoy, dear reader. All I can ask in return is that
you click the little button . . .yes, that one . . . . it says "Review."
**
I don't know how I made it through that first day. Charms seemed like a constant threat – I was praying nobody would notice the absurd appearance of my wand, which still had reddish, flaky bark clinging to it. I blended in happily with the class, none of whom got the spell right – I tried to do it their way, and whether it was unfamiliarity with that kind of magic or my makeshift wand's odd state that tripped me up, I didn't care. . I passed my anxiety for first-day nerves, which the rest of the class had. But for me, it was trying to gauge how to disguise my magic as theirs, or how their magic worked from the wands and so seemingly disconnected from everything I'd ever known. I was not going to stand out. I was not. I was so convinced that I was going to fit in perfectly that it made me wretchedly nervous.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was a sham; the professor, Gilderoy Lockheart, was an absolute idiot. Half the girls in my class thought he was swoony, but I thought he was a fool. Anyone with that many self-portraits needed some ego deflating. He didn't call on us for wandwork, though; just showed off some laughable nonsense about his books.
We didn't have Potions that day, for which I found myself later to have been extremely lucky. Neither, I noted later, did I see any more of the rather mysterious Hendrick Lodwhyn.
Of course, that evening at dinner, I spoke with Harry again, who warned both Ginny and I against the horrors of Professor Snape, the Potions master, and we left the Great Hall dreading the next day's classes. I checked my schedule, though and found that to my surprise, we would have a class called Care of Magical Creatures. When I read that, I found myself laughing. The sudden fit of giggles caught Ginny's attention.
"What's so funny, Sterling?" she asked me curiously.
In between laughs, I managed to express some sort of surprise at having a class on Magical Creatures. She looked confused for a minute, and then remembered that I was Muggle-born. "Oh," she said brightly. "I've heard that's a really interesting class- my brothers, you know – study of all sorts of things, from flobberworms to dragons and unicorns – though they say we won't see any dragons, too dangerous – Sterling, what is so funny?"
I had given a rather loud snort of astonishment as she had said unicorns. Unicorns? We were going to study unicorns? I could just see it now . . . . "No, professor, I know nothing about unicorns, nothing at all . . . ." I muttered under my breath, trying to stop laughing. "I'm sorry, Ginny," I managed at last. "Just- pleasantly surprised, that's all."
She looked a little suspicious of me now, and turned to hear what her brother was saying, rather disgruntledly.
"No!" I exclaimed, trying hard to fix the situation. "I'm not laughing at you, honest! I've just always had a penchant for magical creatures, and it's all so new—it almost seems funny," I finished lamely. I might tell her eventually, if I knew her well enough. Maybe. But not now. I didn't have the courage to do it now.
She seemed placated by my speech, and smiled. "Oh," she said. "I guess I'm really used to this stuff."
I shrugged. "I guess I'm just not prepared. What else have we got tomorrow?"
We both looked at our schedules. Herbology was the next day, as well as Care of Magical Creatures and Potions. The Potions class was scheduled with the Slytherins. Ginny groaned, and showed that to her brother, Ron, who gave an indignant squawk and choked on his pumpkin juice.
"Why, that –," he spluttered, trying to regain his breath.
Hermione, sitting next to him, gave him a rather disapproving look and turned to us. "What is it?" she asked.
Ginny, who was laughing to herself at Ron's absurd appearance, showed Hermione the schedule. "We'll have double Potions with the Slytherins, look," she said.
"Oh," Hermione said. "That is bad. Do they do it on purpose?"
Ron, who had regained his breath, cried, "Of course he does it on purpose! Snape just likes to torture the Gryffindors. The git hates us!"
I was beginning to recall Professor Snape, the potions master. Slightly yellow skin, hooked nose, dark, messy hair, unpleasant expression . . . . "He's the Head of Slytherin, isn't he?" I asked.
Harry nodded. I gave a start; I'd almost forgotten he was there. "He favors them, too," he said. His face darkened. "He can't stand me, especially."
I was beginning to understand the situation. "So . . . let me get this straight. We have Potions with the Slytherins, who are predominantly rumoured to be unpleasant. We're being taught by Professor Snape, who hates Gryffindors and loves Slytherins. Therefore, we're to expect a lousy time. Am I on the right track?"
Ron shook his head. "Not a lousy time," he muttered. "Flat-out bad."
***
I was not, needless to say, looking forward to Potions the next morning. It was our first class of the morning, so I resolved not to stay up too late. But first, there was the little matter of my wand. I had the pine twig, but I had to make it look presentable, and make a decision.
Was I going to try and fake their magic, and just use the Elements? Could I get away with it?
Or was I going to give my wand a core and see if it could work?
I grinned. Well, I wasn't here to learn how to act. I was here to learn how to wand-wave. I reached for my pine wand, and ran my hands over it, letting the bark flake away so it looked more smooth. Then, I built the pyramid of Elements. I worked under a system of four elements and two extras: Fire, Water, Air, Earth as the four, and Light and Dark as the products of the four combined. I understood that some witches thought of them differently. That, in itself, seemed unfathomable to me.
I called upon water, and before I knew it, I could pass things through the pine piece without disturbing its shape. I found a silver wire, and laid it so it was right in the middle of the twig. Then, I reached for my hair. I found a rather straight piece and pulled, laying it into the heart of the twig as well, watching as the wood behaved like a liquid and closed back over it.
I ended the work before I could mess up the properties of the pine with the water by too much. Then, I lifted my newly modified wand. Well, I thought, if this didn't work, I was going to have to learn how to fake.
Taking a deep breath, I waved the wand once, as I had done in Ollivander's shop. It made a sound like a bell, and silver mist enveloped me. I grinned.
"Red pine and unicorn hair, twelve inches," I said proudly to myself. The silver was in there too, to augment the hair. Technically, it was a human hair, so it needed some help.
I wondered briefly to myself how Ollivander made his wands. Surely not in such a haphazard fashion as I had just made mine? I began to laugh, suddenly. This unorthodox creation would probably be shunned, if anyone knew. But nobody really had to know! I knew this wand would behave for me without a trace of gold. I might even be able to make it work like a normal wand.
The only catch was . . . what had I done with my old one? And how would I explain this to Professor McGonagall?
**
The next morning, I didn't think of my wand much. I didn't suppose I would need to use it in Potions, anyway – but I was worried about the class. We had to walk down to the dungeons, carrying our cauldrons, to find the classroom. It was gloomy, chilly, and unpleasant. I saw the Slytherins, who were sitting across the room. There was Lodwhyn. I looked at him. He didn't seem to notice me, but I studied him on my own. He didn't look like much; a twiggy kid with limp brownish hair. His eyes, not focused on me, were bright, and sharp. I wondered what he was thinking.
I let my gaze wander the to the other Slytherins. Some of them were useless- looking oafs; I struggled to remember some names. There was Davida Dretan, a prissy-looking girl I'd heard bragging about her family's money in the halls. There was Botros Ambriose, a heavyset boy with a dull face. I couldn't recognize the others, but I didn't really think they looked friendly.
Colin Creevy was sitting next to me. He still had the same, obnoxious energy, and he was glaring at the Slytherins for all he was worth. A camera lay on his desk beside his books. Ginny sat on my other side. I smiled nervously at her.
And just then, Snape swept into the room. He fastened us all with a glare, saying nothing as he walked to the front and stood at his desk. He wore a sour expression, and looked us all up and down as though searching for incriminating evidence. Then, he reached for a paper and called roll. Once it was established that everyone was present, he stared at us all once more, and began to speak.
"Welcome," he said, in a voice that almost sounded silky with threats, "to Potions. This class will be absolutely lost on most of you; you will never appreciate the bauty of this most subtle of magics. I have no qualms in failing each and every one of you if you are incompetent. But if you pay attention . . . I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death."
That sounded like fun, I mused . . . even if I thought this Snape guy was distinctly unpleasant. He gave me the shivers with his obvious hostility. Casting a glance across the room, I checked out the Slytherin's responses to this speech. Some looked confused: Lodwhyn looked downright pleased. I grinned. This seemed like a challenge to me. Potions was a completely new area of magic in a thousand respects, and there was no wand necessary. It sounded like something wonderful.
Snape apparently noticed my smile. "What, if I may ask," he said, making it very plain that he was allowed to ask, "are you smiling at, Miss Walsh?" he asked me.
I made myself look him in the eye. "I like the sounds of that, Professor," I said as boldly as I could manage.
"Oh, you do, do you?" he asked me. His voice sounded almost lazy, as though taunting me was just barely amusing to him. "Whatever makes you think you can master it?"
"Nothing, Professor . . . . it only makes me think I can try," I replied. I was hoping he would leave it at that. He didn't.
"Surely, Miss Walsh," he said, walking towards my desk, "surely, then, you can answer a question for me?"
I raised my eyebrows, and paused. "Probably not," I admitted at last. "But again, I'll try."
"What, exactly, is the use of gillyweed?" he asked me.
I thought. I didn't remember reading anything about it. At last, I was forced to admit, "I don't know, sir."
He smiled unpleasantly. I really didn't like him now, but there was no backing down.
"A point from Gryffindor, for wasting my time. Can anyone else tell me?" he asked the classroom.
When Lodwhyn answered, and said it enabled the consumer to breathe underwater, I was oddly not surprised. When Lodwhyn was awarded points to Slytherin, I was not surprised. When all the other Gryffindors left, complaining about Potions and dreading future classes with Snape, I was not surprised.
When I realized that I was planning to go straight to the library later and start reading up on things like gillyweed? I wasn't in the slightest surprised.
Care of Magical Creatures, despite some amused apprehension on my part, passed rather uneventfully. I wondered if we would eventually study unicorns; and what I would do if we did. But Professor Kettleburn, though he mentioned them once in passing in his introduction, seemed to have no plan for us other than for us to begin discussing basic magical garden pests, like gnomes. Herbology was notably dull until one plant tried to attack Colin Creevy when he took a picture of it. Professor Sprout had to give us a lecture on greenhouse safety after that incident.
That night, I went to bed happy. The wand-waving would come the next day. I had Transfiguration, and would have to make my excuses to Professor McGonagall, but I'd get through that, somehow.
I fell asleep, and dreamed of golden cauldrons, not being able to touch them without my skin blistering, and Snape not believing me. I dreamed I had to explain myself to everyone and Ginny, kind Ginny, thought I was only a freak . . . . and I dreamed that Lodwhyn laughed, and bridled me with snakes.
Thanks all! (See it? The review button I mentioned earlier? Right. Umm . . . Imperio! Okay, now click? Please?)
**
I don't know how I made it through that first day. Charms seemed like a constant threat – I was praying nobody would notice the absurd appearance of my wand, which still had reddish, flaky bark clinging to it. I blended in happily with the class, none of whom got the spell right – I tried to do it their way, and whether it was unfamiliarity with that kind of magic or my makeshift wand's odd state that tripped me up, I didn't care. . I passed my anxiety for first-day nerves, which the rest of the class had. But for me, it was trying to gauge how to disguise my magic as theirs, or how their magic worked from the wands and so seemingly disconnected from everything I'd ever known. I was not going to stand out. I was not. I was so convinced that I was going to fit in perfectly that it made me wretchedly nervous.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was a sham; the professor, Gilderoy Lockheart, was an absolute idiot. Half the girls in my class thought he was swoony, but I thought he was a fool. Anyone with that many self-portraits needed some ego deflating. He didn't call on us for wandwork, though; just showed off some laughable nonsense about his books.
We didn't have Potions that day, for which I found myself later to have been extremely lucky. Neither, I noted later, did I see any more of the rather mysterious Hendrick Lodwhyn.
Of course, that evening at dinner, I spoke with Harry again, who warned both Ginny and I against the horrors of Professor Snape, the Potions master, and we left the Great Hall dreading the next day's classes. I checked my schedule, though and found that to my surprise, we would have a class called Care of Magical Creatures. When I read that, I found myself laughing. The sudden fit of giggles caught Ginny's attention.
"What's so funny, Sterling?" she asked me curiously.
In between laughs, I managed to express some sort of surprise at having a class on Magical Creatures. She looked confused for a minute, and then remembered that I was Muggle-born. "Oh," she said brightly. "I've heard that's a really interesting class- my brothers, you know – study of all sorts of things, from flobberworms to dragons and unicorns – though they say we won't see any dragons, too dangerous – Sterling, what is so funny?"
I had given a rather loud snort of astonishment as she had said unicorns. Unicorns? We were going to study unicorns? I could just see it now . . . . "No, professor, I know nothing about unicorns, nothing at all . . . ." I muttered under my breath, trying to stop laughing. "I'm sorry, Ginny," I managed at last. "Just- pleasantly surprised, that's all."
She looked a little suspicious of me now, and turned to hear what her brother was saying, rather disgruntledly.
"No!" I exclaimed, trying hard to fix the situation. "I'm not laughing at you, honest! I've just always had a penchant for magical creatures, and it's all so new—it almost seems funny," I finished lamely. I might tell her eventually, if I knew her well enough. Maybe. But not now. I didn't have the courage to do it now.
She seemed placated by my speech, and smiled. "Oh," she said. "I guess I'm really used to this stuff."
I shrugged. "I guess I'm just not prepared. What else have we got tomorrow?"
We both looked at our schedules. Herbology was the next day, as well as Care of Magical Creatures and Potions. The Potions class was scheduled with the Slytherins. Ginny groaned, and showed that to her brother, Ron, who gave an indignant squawk and choked on his pumpkin juice.
"Why, that –," he spluttered, trying to regain his breath.
Hermione, sitting next to him, gave him a rather disapproving look and turned to us. "What is it?" she asked.
Ginny, who was laughing to herself at Ron's absurd appearance, showed Hermione the schedule. "We'll have double Potions with the Slytherins, look," she said.
"Oh," Hermione said. "That is bad. Do they do it on purpose?"
Ron, who had regained his breath, cried, "Of course he does it on purpose! Snape just likes to torture the Gryffindors. The git hates us!"
I was beginning to recall Professor Snape, the potions master. Slightly yellow skin, hooked nose, dark, messy hair, unpleasant expression . . . . "He's the Head of Slytherin, isn't he?" I asked.
Harry nodded. I gave a start; I'd almost forgotten he was there. "He favors them, too," he said. His face darkened. "He can't stand me, especially."
I was beginning to understand the situation. "So . . . let me get this straight. We have Potions with the Slytherins, who are predominantly rumoured to be unpleasant. We're being taught by Professor Snape, who hates Gryffindors and loves Slytherins. Therefore, we're to expect a lousy time. Am I on the right track?"
Ron shook his head. "Not a lousy time," he muttered. "Flat-out bad."
***
I was not, needless to say, looking forward to Potions the next morning. It was our first class of the morning, so I resolved not to stay up too late. But first, there was the little matter of my wand. I had the pine twig, but I had to make it look presentable, and make a decision.
Was I going to try and fake their magic, and just use the Elements? Could I get away with it?
Or was I going to give my wand a core and see if it could work?
I grinned. Well, I wasn't here to learn how to act. I was here to learn how to wand-wave. I reached for my pine wand, and ran my hands over it, letting the bark flake away so it looked more smooth. Then, I built the pyramid of Elements. I worked under a system of four elements and two extras: Fire, Water, Air, Earth as the four, and Light and Dark as the products of the four combined. I understood that some witches thought of them differently. That, in itself, seemed unfathomable to me.
I called upon water, and before I knew it, I could pass things through the pine piece without disturbing its shape. I found a silver wire, and laid it so it was right in the middle of the twig. Then, I reached for my hair. I found a rather straight piece and pulled, laying it into the heart of the twig as well, watching as the wood behaved like a liquid and closed back over it.
I ended the work before I could mess up the properties of the pine with the water by too much. Then, I lifted my newly modified wand. Well, I thought, if this didn't work, I was going to have to learn how to fake.
Taking a deep breath, I waved the wand once, as I had done in Ollivander's shop. It made a sound like a bell, and silver mist enveloped me. I grinned.
"Red pine and unicorn hair, twelve inches," I said proudly to myself. The silver was in there too, to augment the hair. Technically, it was a human hair, so it needed some help.
I wondered briefly to myself how Ollivander made his wands. Surely not in such a haphazard fashion as I had just made mine? I began to laugh, suddenly. This unorthodox creation would probably be shunned, if anyone knew. But nobody really had to know! I knew this wand would behave for me without a trace of gold. I might even be able to make it work like a normal wand.
The only catch was . . . what had I done with my old one? And how would I explain this to Professor McGonagall?
**
The next morning, I didn't think of my wand much. I didn't suppose I would need to use it in Potions, anyway – but I was worried about the class. We had to walk down to the dungeons, carrying our cauldrons, to find the classroom. It was gloomy, chilly, and unpleasant. I saw the Slytherins, who were sitting across the room. There was Lodwhyn. I looked at him. He didn't seem to notice me, but I studied him on my own. He didn't look like much; a twiggy kid with limp brownish hair. His eyes, not focused on me, were bright, and sharp. I wondered what he was thinking.
I let my gaze wander the to the other Slytherins. Some of them were useless- looking oafs; I struggled to remember some names. There was Davida Dretan, a prissy-looking girl I'd heard bragging about her family's money in the halls. There was Botros Ambriose, a heavyset boy with a dull face. I couldn't recognize the others, but I didn't really think they looked friendly.
Colin Creevy was sitting next to me. He still had the same, obnoxious energy, and he was glaring at the Slytherins for all he was worth. A camera lay on his desk beside his books. Ginny sat on my other side. I smiled nervously at her.
And just then, Snape swept into the room. He fastened us all with a glare, saying nothing as he walked to the front and stood at his desk. He wore a sour expression, and looked us all up and down as though searching for incriminating evidence. Then, he reached for a paper and called roll. Once it was established that everyone was present, he stared at us all once more, and began to speak.
"Welcome," he said, in a voice that almost sounded silky with threats, "to Potions. This class will be absolutely lost on most of you; you will never appreciate the bauty of this most subtle of magics. I have no qualms in failing each and every one of you if you are incompetent. But if you pay attention . . . I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death."
That sounded like fun, I mused . . . even if I thought this Snape guy was distinctly unpleasant. He gave me the shivers with his obvious hostility. Casting a glance across the room, I checked out the Slytherin's responses to this speech. Some looked confused: Lodwhyn looked downright pleased. I grinned. This seemed like a challenge to me. Potions was a completely new area of magic in a thousand respects, and there was no wand necessary. It sounded like something wonderful.
Snape apparently noticed my smile. "What, if I may ask," he said, making it very plain that he was allowed to ask, "are you smiling at, Miss Walsh?" he asked me.
I made myself look him in the eye. "I like the sounds of that, Professor," I said as boldly as I could manage.
"Oh, you do, do you?" he asked me. His voice sounded almost lazy, as though taunting me was just barely amusing to him. "Whatever makes you think you can master it?"
"Nothing, Professor . . . . it only makes me think I can try," I replied. I was hoping he would leave it at that. He didn't.
"Surely, Miss Walsh," he said, walking towards my desk, "surely, then, you can answer a question for me?"
I raised my eyebrows, and paused. "Probably not," I admitted at last. "But again, I'll try."
"What, exactly, is the use of gillyweed?" he asked me.
I thought. I didn't remember reading anything about it. At last, I was forced to admit, "I don't know, sir."
He smiled unpleasantly. I really didn't like him now, but there was no backing down.
"A point from Gryffindor, for wasting my time. Can anyone else tell me?" he asked the classroom.
When Lodwhyn answered, and said it enabled the consumer to breathe underwater, I was oddly not surprised. When Lodwhyn was awarded points to Slytherin, I was not surprised. When all the other Gryffindors left, complaining about Potions and dreading future classes with Snape, I was not surprised.
When I realized that I was planning to go straight to the library later and start reading up on things like gillyweed? I wasn't in the slightest surprised.
Care of Magical Creatures, despite some amused apprehension on my part, passed rather uneventfully. I wondered if we would eventually study unicorns; and what I would do if we did. But Professor Kettleburn, though he mentioned them once in passing in his introduction, seemed to have no plan for us other than for us to begin discussing basic magical garden pests, like gnomes. Herbology was notably dull until one plant tried to attack Colin Creevy when he took a picture of it. Professor Sprout had to give us a lecture on greenhouse safety after that incident.
That night, I went to bed happy. The wand-waving would come the next day. I had Transfiguration, and would have to make my excuses to Professor McGonagall, but I'd get through that, somehow.
I fell asleep, and dreamed of golden cauldrons, not being able to touch them without my skin blistering, and Snape not believing me. I dreamed I had to explain myself to everyone and Ginny, kind Ginny, thought I was only a freak . . . . and I dreamed that Lodwhyn laughed, and bridled me with snakes.
Thanks all! (See it? The review button I mentioned earlier? Right. Umm . . . Imperio! Okay, now click? Please?)
