Disclaimer: I'm a poor, bored college student in America, about as far from J. K. Rowling and Tamora Pierce as you can get.
Hermione followed a few steps behind the other boys as they filled into the dining hall. It was much smaller than the Great Hall at Hogwarts, but then there was only one class here and only about thirty boys in it.
Hermione sat across from Harry and Ron, who kept shooting her wary glances when they thought her attention was elsewhere. It was quite clear they thought "Jonathan" was insane. After all, "he" kept forgetting important things, like his name.
Hermione avoided their looks by studying the teachers seated at the Head Table. They were all men, all looked to be between 30 and 50, and they all looked very dark and severe.
The darkest, severest and oldest man who was seated in the center rose to his feet and cleared his throat.
"I," he began in a very cold voice, "am Headmaster Ahriman. These next four months will be the hardest months you'll ever experience. Understand now, if you cannot handle difficult, strenuous work then you should leave. Immediately."
He waited a moment, the boys looked nervously at each other, no one moved.
"Very well, then. These are your teachers:
"Professor Seth: Transfiguration
"Professor Gilbert: Charms
"Professor Carey: Herbology
"Professor Sullivan: Physical Defense
"and Professor Snape: Potions."
Harry and Ron both gasped aloud when they Saw Snape stand up at one shadowy end of the table and give a sharp little bow; unfortunately so did Hermione.
"Not him!" She hissed.
"You know him?" Ron asked, quietly.
"I, er, I've heard of him. He's horrible isn't he?"
"Too right." Harry said, watching the stage with narrowed eyes. "I can't believe the bastard is here. I thought we escaped him."
"Yeah," Hermione agreed.
Both boys frowned at her a moment before continuing their conversation in whispers.
Food appeared before them, it wasn't quite the bountiful feast of Hogwarts but it was a close second.
"They've got excellent house-elves here," Ron commented shoveling shepherds pie into his mouth.
"It's pure slavery, Ron." Hermione snapped.
Ron's fork froze halfway to his mouth, he gave her a long look from the corner of his eye.
"Oh, er, right," he said eventually and shoved his laden fork into his mouth.
Hermione's cheeks were burning, Harry and Ron were staring hard at her.
"Hot," she mumbled gesturing at her plate.
She sipped at her water.
"You know," Ron said, "our friend Hermione-"
Hermione choked and spit water across the table into his face. Ron blinked and slowly wiped at his face, keeping his eyes on her as though he expected her to attack him.
"Sorry, I, er, it went down the wrong, er, pipe," she managed, wiping water off her chin.
She halfheartedly swiped at the water on the table and tried to keep her voice light.
"You were saying?"
"Er, Hermione was against house-elves too. She founded this organization, spew-"
"S. P. E. W." Hermione snapped before she could stop herself.
"What?" Ron asked, shocked. "What did you say?"
"I, er, read about it. In, er, the Daily Prophet! Your friend Hermione, isn't she Hermione Granger, Head Girl, top of her class at Hogwarts, highest N. E. W. T. scores in centuries?" Hermione was warming to her subject and, to her relief, the boys were nodding and smiling. "I read about her in the Daily Prophet. She also founded S. P. E. W. She's a remarkable girl."
"That she is," Ron heartily agreed.
"Yeah," Harry said. "She's great. I just love her."
Hermione's elbow slipped and she slammed a hand into her plate, flipping it into her face.
Hermione followed a few steps behind the other boys as they filled into the dining hall. It was much smaller than the Great Hall at Hogwarts, but then there was only one class here and only about thirty boys in it.
Hermione sat across from Harry and Ron, who kept shooting her wary glances when they thought her attention was elsewhere. It was quite clear they thought "Jonathan" was insane. After all, "he" kept forgetting important things, like his name.
Hermione avoided their looks by studying the teachers seated at the Head Table. They were all men, all looked to be between 30 and 50, and they all looked very dark and severe.
The darkest, severest and oldest man who was seated in the center rose to his feet and cleared his throat.
"I," he began in a very cold voice, "am Headmaster Ahriman. These next four months will be the hardest months you'll ever experience. Understand now, if you cannot handle difficult, strenuous work then you should leave. Immediately."
He waited a moment, the boys looked nervously at each other, no one moved.
"Very well, then. These are your teachers:
"Professor Seth: Transfiguration
"Professor Gilbert: Charms
"Professor Carey: Herbology
"Professor Sullivan: Physical Defense
"and Professor Snape: Potions."
Harry and Ron both gasped aloud when they Saw Snape stand up at one shadowy end of the table and give a sharp little bow; unfortunately so did Hermione.
"Not him!" She hissed.
"You know him?" Ron asked, quietly.
"I, er, I've heard of him. He's horrible isn't he?"
"Too right." Harry said, watching the stage with narrowed eyes. "I can't believe the bastard is here. I thought we escaped him."
"Yeah," Hermione agreed.
Both boys frowned at her a moment before continuing their conversation in whispers.
Food appeared before them, it wasn't quite the bountiful feast of Hogwarts but it was a close second.
"They've got excellent house-elves here," Ron commented shoveling shepherds pie into his mouth.
"It's pure slavery, Ron." Hermione snapped.
Ron's fork froze halfway to his mouth, he gave her a long look from the corner of his eye.
"Oh, er, right," he said eventually and shoved his laden fork into his mouth.
Hermione's cheeks were burning, Harry and Ron were staring hard at her.
"Hot," she mumbled gesturing at her plate.
She sipped at her water.
"You know," Ron said, "our friend Hermione-"
Hermione choked and spit water across the table into his face. Ron blinked and slowly wiped at his face, keeping his eyes on her as though he expected her to attack him.
"Sorry, I, er, it went down the wrong, er, pipe," she managed, wiping water off her chin.
She halfheartedly swiped at the water on the table and tried to keep her voice light.
"You were saying?"
"Er, Hermione was against house-elves too. She founded this organization, spew-"
"S. P. E. W." Hermione snapped before she could stop herself.
"What?" Ron asked, shocked. "What did you say?"
"I, er, read about it. In, er, the Daily Prophet! Your friend Hermione, isn't she Hermione Granger, Head Girl, top of her class at Hogwarts, highest N. E. W. T. scores in centuries?" Hermione was warming to her subject and, to her relief, the boys were nodding and smiling. "I read about her in the Daily Prophet. She also founded S. P. E. W. She's a remarkable girl."
"That she is," Ron heartily agreed.
"Yeah," Harry said. "She's great. I just love her."
Hermione's elbow slipped and she slammed a hand into her plate, flipping it into her face.