Chapter 4—Nora Lovegood
"Nora?" Liz said. The small girl looked up, a misty look of absence in her eyes. "Are you Nora Lovegood?" Liz asked.
"Yes," Nora replied, shifting in her seat. "Are you my cousin?"
Liz was taken aback. "Maybe. I mean, I don't know. I mean, are you related to my mum, Luna Lovegood?"
Nora nodded dreamily. "Yes. My father was your mother's brother. So you're my cousin, correct?"
"I guess."
"There also my brother Carl. He's in Ravenclaw. Carl!" she called out. A brunette third-year waved from his table. "There's also Matthew Leeming. He's over there, in Slytherin." She snorted. "Fifth-years think they know everything, don't they?"
"Yeah, um, maybe. Why?"
"Well, he has that new book everyone wants and he won't let me read it! It really isn't fair. Anyway, his mother is our aunt, your mum's sister."
Now that all the mysteries had been cleared up, Liz noticed her hunger pains as Nora began munching on a leg of chicken. "I—I've got to go. Nice chatting with you."
"You too," Nora said. She turned back to her table, as if she hadn't just met her famous cousin. Liz took one step back, then another, and then she made a run for the Gryffindor table.
"Who was that you were talking to?" Michael asked around a mouthful of food.
"My cousin Nora."
"You have cousins?" asked Rachel. "Wow, cool."
Liz nodded. "I guess. Mm, I love Hogwarts food."
She was glad to be around all the Gryffindors again. There were Desiree, Bettie, Alberta, and John, and then there were Thomas Needham, Robert Sorenson, and Keith Dircks. All of them currently had their heads buried in the books. Liz sighed in disgust.
Professor McGonagall stood regally at the High Table, waiting for attention. "I'm glad you all enjoyed the feast. My congratulations to the first-years for being Sorted successfully. I would like to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is self-explanatory: forbidden. Now I believe it is time to go up to bed. Prefects?"
The prefects began to call out for all the years to follow them. A sixth- year led them to the portrait of the Fat Lady, told them the password ("Glumbumbles"), and led them in. Liz and Rachel said goodbye to Michael and headed up to the now-familiar dormitory. Their luggage was already there.
Liz sank onto her bed. It was so comfortable, so familiar. She was home at last. With Sunny gnawing gently on her toes, Liz fell fast asleep.
In the morning, Liz blinked herself awake. Sunny was curled up on her stomach, purring softly. Now she'd have cat hairs all over her robes. She made sure not to disturb her baby kitten too much as she got up and changed clothes. Then she headed downstairs.
"Schedules," Rachel yawned. "Here's yours. Put it away."
But Liz took it and scanned it three or four times before putting it in her bag. Rachel scowled. "Why d'you have to do that?"
"Do what?"
"Memorize it!"
Liz shrugged. "It helps to know your schedule."
"I know that, but that's what you have it in your bag for! It's not going anywhere."
Liz didn't reply. Rachel sat muttering darkly about overachievers until Michael finally showed up. She handed him his schedule, and he promptly stuffed it in his bag. "See, that's how people should do it," Rachel grumbled, as if the handing out of timetables was the only true test of character. Liz rolled her eyes.
"First class...aw, darn, it's Defense Against the Dark Arts," Michael groaned after breakfast.
"What's wrong with that?"
"It's school work," he told Liz.
Liz hadn't enjoyed that class one bit the previous year, but that had been because of Professor Theseus Garb, a pompous, arrogant jerk, who had quit. She was eager to find out who their new teacher would be. Unfortunately, when they entered the classroom, the teacher was surrounded with students all clamoring with quills and spare scraps of parchment.
"Wonder what's going on?" said Rachel.
The bell rang, and the students cleared away to reveal a woman with a face like a pug. On the board, she had written PROFESSOR PENNY NILWORG in huge, loopy letters.
"Liz," Michael muttered. "Isn't that the author of Secrets of the Mind?"
"Welcome, class," Professor Nilworg said. "I am Professor Penny Nilworg. Yes, some of you may have read my book," she added as a cheer rose up from most of the students. "But we will not be focusing on that in the classroom. Today we will begin a section on Potions to Stop, Injure, or Incapacitate Your Enemies. Please open your books to page two."
"More Potions," Michael grumbled. "Great."
They took notes on some weird potions none of them had ever heard of before, and then it was time for History of Magic, with Professor Binns, their only ghost teacher. The whole class, even Liz, agreed that he was the only teacher who knew how to put them to sleep so well. As soon as they reached their seats, he began to lecture.
"Today we'll talk about some current events. Around the time you were born, the Metamorphmagi were rounded up and tagged. Metamorphmagi have extraordinary abilities in which they only have to wish their appearance different, and it is so. They were rounded up, tagged, and put into captivity, where they remain to this day."
Liz moaned. Only Binns would believe around the time they were born to be the time span of current events. By the time the bell rang, she was wondering if it was possible to die of boredom.
Classes got along all right. They had Transfiguration with Professor Weasley, Herbology with Professor Longbottom, Charms with Professor Flitwick, and Potions with crotchety old Professor Snape. He seemed to hate children, but especially Gryffindors. The hour in the dungeons nearly every day was torture.
The third week of school, he set them to work brewing something he called a Snap Potion.
"Like Snape without the E," Michael mumbled.
"This potion is used to cure or wake up an individual in a trance-like state. The name comes from the phrase, 'Snap out of it.' Now here are the ingredients on the board, and make sure you do it right," he sneered. "Begin."
The ingredients were mostly plants that could be found in an ordinary garden. Liz set to work brewing them perfectly, making sure Winnie Chen was across the room so no sabotage would be executed. Within minutes she had finished, and it was flawless. But instead of an approving glance, Snape shot her a glare.
"Are you done already, Miss Potter?" he snarled loudly, so most of the class looked up.
"Yes, Professor," Liz replied.
"Really. I suppose we should test it. Who wants to be the test subject?
Nobody raised his or her hand.
"Well, since it is your potion, I propose you to be the test subject, Miss Potter."
Liz nodded and swallowed dryly. What was Snape going to do to her? She could hardly stand it.
Snape raised his wand, muttered a few words, and aimed at Liz. A single yellow spark burst at her, and for a moment everything was washed in gold. Then it cleared, and all she could see was Snape. She knew she must do whatever he told her, or there would be dire consequences for her actions.
"Speak," he commanded, his voice as hypnotic as the spell.
"La," she said.
"Dance."
She tried to, not aware that she was making a fool of herself.
"Act like a monkey."
She bent down and curled her arms and screeched in perfect monkey fashion. Then all commands stopped. A voice was yelling, but Liz didn't know to whom it belonged. A cool something hit her in the face and stuck. Then she was aware of herself again and very angry with Snape.
"What were you doing?" she screeched, abandoning all pretense of trying not to make Snape mad.
"Demonstrating the power of the spell over you, and how much more powerful the Snap potion is, if you brewed it correctly. As it turns out, you did."
"You made me look like a fool!"
The bell rang and the class gratefully filed out. Liz scowled one more time at Snape and left. Winnie Chen passed with her friend Patsy Casarez, saying, "Well, he made a monkey out of her."
"That was awful," Rachel said.
"Yeah," Liz grumbled.
"Still, you've got to thank Michael. He yelled at Snape, told him off, and threw your potion at you."
"You did?" Liz asked. "Thanks, Michael."
"No one does that to one of my best friends," he smiled. Liz grinned. She felt lucky to have such good friends.
"Nora?" Liz said. The small girl looked up, a misty look of absence in her eyes. "Are you Nora Lovegood?" Liz asked.
"Yes," Nora replied, shifting in her seat. "Are you my cousin?"
Liz was taken aback. "Maybe. I mean, I don't know. I mean, are you related to my mum, Luna Lovegood?"
Nora nodded dreamily. "Yes. My father was your mother's brother. So you're my cousin, correct?"
"I guess."
"There also my brother Carl. He's in Ravenclaw. Carl!" she called out. A brunette third-year waved from his table. "There's also Matthew Leeming. He's over there, in Slytherin." She snorted. "Fifth-years think they know everything, don't they?"
"Yeah, um, maybe. Why?"
"Well, he has that new book everyone wants and he won't let me read it! It really isn't fair. Anyway, his mother is our aunt, your mum's sister."
Now that all the mysteries had been cleared up, Liz noticed her hunger pains as Nora began munching on a leg of chicken. "I—I've got to go. Nice chatting with you."
"You too," Nora said. She turned back to her table, as if she hadn't just met her famous cousin. Liz took one step back, then another, and then she made a run for the Gryffindor table.
"Who was that you were talking to?" Michael asked around a mouthful of food.
"My cousin Nora."
"You have cousins?" asked Rachel. "Wow, cool."
Liz nodded. "I guess. Mm, I love Hogwarts food."
She was glad to be around all the Gryffindors again. There were Desiree, Bettie, Alberta, and John, and then there were Thomas Needham, Robert Sorenson, and Keith Dircks. All of them currently had their heads buried in the books. Liz sighed in disgust.
Professor McGonagall stood regally at the High Table, waiting for attention. "I'm glad you all enjoyed the feast. My congratulations to the first-years for being Sorted successfully. I would like to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is self-explanatory: forbidden. Now I believe it is time to go up to bed. Prefects?"
The prefects began to call out for all the years to follow them. A sixth- year led them to the portrait of the Fat Lady, told them the password ("Glumbumbles"), and led them in. Liz and Rachel said goodbye to Michael and headed up to the now-familiar dormitory. Their luggage was already there.
Liz sank onto her bed. It was so comfortable, so familiar. She was home at last. With Sunny gnawing gently on her toes, Liz fell fast asleep.
In the morning, Liz blinked herself awake. Sunny was curled up on her stomach, purring softly. Now she'd have cat hairs all over her robes. She made sure not to disturb her baby kitten too much as she got up and changed clothes. Then she headed downstairs.
"Schedules," Rachel yawned. "Here's yours. Put it away."
But Liz took it and scanned it three or four times before putting it in her bag. Rachel scowled. "Why d'you have to do that?"
"Do what?"
"Memorize it!"
Liz shrugged. "It helps to know your schedule."
"I know that, but that's what you have it in your bag for! It's not going anywhere."
Liz didn't reply. Rachel sat muttering darkly about overachievers until Michael finally showed up. She handed him his schedule, and he promptly stuffed it in his bag. "See, that's how people should do it," Rachel grumbled, as if the handing out of timetables was the only true test of character. Liz rolled her eyes.
"First class...aw, darn, it's Defense Against the Dark Arts," Michael groaned after breakfast.
"What's wrong with that?"
"It's school work," he told Liz.
Liz hadn't enjoyed that class one bit the previous year, but that had been because of Professor Theseus Garb, a pompous, arrogant jerk, who had quit. She was eager to find out who their new teacher would be. Unfortunately, when they entered the classroom, the teacher was surrounded with students all clamoring with quills and spare scraps of parchment.
"Wonder what's going on?" said Rachel.
The bell rang, and the students cleared away to reveal a woman with a face like a pug. On the board, she had written PROFESSOR PENNY NILWORG in huge, loopy letters.
"Liz," Michael muttered. "Isn't that the author of Secrets of the Mind?"
"Welcome, class," Professor Nilworg said. "I am Professor Penny Nilworg. Yes, some of you may have read my book," she added as a cheer rose up from most of the students. "But we will not be focusing on that in the classroom. Today we will begin a section on Potions to Stop, Injure, or Incapacitate Your Enemies. Please open your books to page two."
"More Potions," Michael grumbled. "Great."
They took notes on some weird potions none of them had ever heard of before, and then it was time for History of Magic, with Professor Binns, their only ghost teacher. The whole class, even Liz, agreed that he was the only teacher who knew how to put them to sleep so well. As soon as they reached their seats, he began to lecture.
"Today we'll talk about some current events. Around the time you were born, the Metamorphmagi were rounded up and tagged. Metamorphmagi have extraordinary abilities in which they only have to wish their appearance different, and it is so. They were rounded up, tagged, and put into captivity, where they remain to this day."
Liz moaned. Only Binns would believe around the time they were born to be the time span of current events. By the time the bell rang, she was wondering if it was possible to die of boredom.
Classes got along all right. They had Transfiguration with Professor Weasley, Herbology with Professor Longbottom, Charms with Professor Flitwick, and Potions with crotchety old Professor Snape. He seemed to hate children, but especially Gryffindors. The hour in the dungeons nearly every day was torture.
The third week of school, he set them to work brewing something he called a Snap Potion.
"Like Snape without the E," Michael mumbled.
"This potion is used to cure or wake up an individual in a trance-like state. The name comes from the phrase, 'Snap out of it.' Now here are the ingredients on the board, and make sure you do it right," he sneered. "Begin."
The ingredients were mostly plants that could be found in an ordinary garden. Liz set to work brewing them perfectly, making sure Winnie Chen was across the room so no sabotage would be executed. Within minutes she had finished, and it was flawless. But instead of an approving glance, Snape shot her a glare.
"Are you done already, Miss Potter?" he snarled loudly, so most of the class looked up.
"Yes, Professor," Liz replied.
"Really. I suppose we should test it. Who wants to be the test subject?
Nobody raised his or her hand.
"Well, since it is your potion, I propose you to be the test subject, Miss Potter."
Liz nodded and swallowed dryly. What was Snape going to do to her? She could hardly stand it.
Snape raised his wand, muttered a few words, and aimed at Liz. A single yellow spark burst at her, and for a moment everything was washed in gold. Then it cleared, and all she could see was Snape. She knew she must do whatever he told her, or there would be dire consequences for her actions.
"Speak," he commanded, his voice as hypnotic as the spell.
"La," she said.
"Dance."
She tried to, not aware that she was making a fool of herself.
"Act like a monkey."
She bent down and curled her arms and screeched in perfect monkey fashion. Then all commands stopped. A voice was yelling, but Liz didn't know to whom it belonged. A cool something hit her in the face and stuck. Then she was aware of herself again and very angry with Snape.
"What were you doing?" she screeched, abandoning all pretense of trying not to make Snape mad.
"Demonstrating the power of the spell over you, and how much more powerful the Snap potion is, if you brewed it correctly. As it turns out, you did."
"You made me look like a fool!"
The bell rang and the class gratefully filed out. Liz scowled one more time at Snape and left. Winnie Chen passed with her friend Patsy Casarez, saying, "Well, he made a monkey out of her."
"That was awful," Rachel said.
"Yeah," Liz grumbled.
"Still, you've got to thank Michael. He yelled at Snape, told him off, and threw your potion at you."
"You did?" Liz asked. "Thanks, Michael."
"No one does that to one of my best friends," he smiled. Liz grinned. She felt lucky to have such good friends.