Chapter 6 – Snape's Cupboard
"Out! Out of my way! I've had an awful time, listening to some nutter jabber on about eckel-thingy-whatever—"
"It's electricity, Michael," Rachel told him, but she did not look too happy either as they sat down at the Gryffindor table across from Liz for lunch.
"Er—how was Muggle Studies—?"
"Awful," Michael declared at once. "The teacher—his name is Rosenberg—he talked about—"
"Electricity," Rachel supplied dully.
"—the whole bloody time!"
Liz looked at him. "So it wasn't so good?"
Michael's eyes widened, but he finally made it out to be a joke. "Not so good," he sighed desperately.
Rachel looked over at him and then at Liz. "How was Ancient Runes?"
"Could've been better," Liz replied. "The subject is good, but the teacher is really...strict."
Rachel nodded and asked, "Any homework? We have two rolls of parchment on how Muggles get along without magic using electricity."
"Come to think of it, no. We didn't really do anything today except go over their rules."
"I'd call that a pretty good class period," Michael said miserably.
"But that was after I lost two points for being late."
"He took points off you?" Michael said incredulously. "But nobody takes points off you! Except Snape, of course, but he doesn't count. Who is this guy, huh? He obviously has no idea who you are."
"Oh, he knows, he spit out my name, took two points, and told me to sit down. He loves the rules. As long as I follow them, I think I'll do really well."
"Because heaven forbid you lose any points besides the ones Snape takes," said Rachel sarcastically.
Liz changed the subject. "Why don't we go see Chris on Friday? It'll be fun."
"Uh, Liz?" said Michael. "We just saw him today and we're going to see him Thursday."
"But that was for classes," said Liz. "We want to continue with his Squib lessons, don't we?"
They stared at her.
"Don't we?"
"Liz," said Rachel, sounding as if she was trying to break it to her gently, "do you remember how that went? Besides, I doubt Chris wants to continue—"
"He does. I asked him last year."
"Oh." Rachel's face fell. So did Michael's.
"But Friday can be a normal visit with him and Hagrid, you know?" Liz said quickly. Keen as she was to continue those lessons, she understood exactly how Rachel and Michael felt. Last year's lessons hadn't gone very well at all.
Soon Friday, the three of them set off to Hagrid's cabin. Chris met them at the door. "Isn't it great that I get to help out with Care of Magical Creatures this year? I always asked Hagrid to let me, and now he finally says yes!" was the first thing he said.
"Maybe he let you because we were there," said Liz.
"Hmm. Maybe. Anyway," he said, lowering his voice, did you come to give another lesson? If so—"
"No, just talk about it a little. You do still want to do it, don't you?"
"Yes, I do. But..."
"But what?"
"Nothing."
"We can't let Hagrid see, right? Or else we're in trouble."
"And," said Chris, "we can't let anyone else see, or we're in Ministry law- breaking trouble."
Hagrid chose that time to approach them and clap Chris on the back, almost knocking him over. "You three enjoying school this year?"
They looked at each other. "Well..."
"Well what?"
"There's Muggle Studies—"
"—and Professor Stickler—"
"—and Snape..."
"What's he done now?" asked Chris.
"Given us too much homework," said Rachel.
"My sister says to have a stock of parchment, just for doing his homework," said Michael.
"Sounds fun," Chris grimaced.
They explained how all their other teachers were, including a memorable episode in Herbology where Professor Longbottom had nearly set greenhouse four on fire. Then they told Hagrid and Chris about their other new classes. Hagrid seemed especially interested in Professor Stickler. "I've met the fella. All rules an' things, but he's a nice guy. Yeh'll get used to 'im."
"I hope," Liz agreed, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece. "Look how late it is! We'd better get going. We have that essay for Snape to do."
Rachel and Michael groaned.
They said goodbye and left, feeling slightly better about the week they had just had.
A couple of weeks into the school year and her mother still hadn't sent another letter. Liz was beginning to get worried. Had anything happened since the last? But all her fears vanished one morning as she saw the showy owl flying toward her, bearing a letter. She opened her dormitory window. Desiree peeked out but said nothing as Liz ushered the owl in and untied the letter.
Dear Elizabeth,
How are you? I wish you the best of luck during your third year. During mine, the Triwizard Tournament came to our school. Your father even competed in it. He won, of course; there was this tragic affair of events in which the other winner was killed. A few years later, it turned out your father had given his winnings to a pair of boys named Fred and George Weasley. They started a joke shop with it. Perhaps you've heard of it? Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Or has it closed down now? Ah, well. I must go. I'll write again.
Luna
Liz grinned. She loved hearing, or rather, reading, her mother recount events of her school day. Inspired, she set off to the library for some free-time reading.
"Let me see...that was the 1994-1995 school year...aw, here we are. A newspaper clipping?" she said, extracting a newspaper clipping from the book she had taken off the shelf. "'Triwizard Tournament. Four champions,'" she read. "'Viktor Krum, 1977-1997. Died in a horrific flying accident. Seeker for Bulgaria from...'" Liz read off a long list of Krum's achievements. "'Fleur Delacour. 1978-? Part vela. Currently resides in Paris. Cedric Diggory. 1978-1995.' In the 1995 school year? 'Killed by Lord Voldemort at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.'"
So that was what her mother had been talking about. That's what she had meant by tragic affair of events.
The piece went on to describe Harry Potter in great detail. Liz slipped the clipping back in, put the book on the shelf, and left with a lot on her mind.
"All right, class, the ingredients are on the board," said Snape.
It was the latest in a series of torturous potion lessons Snape had decided to subject them to on Love Potions.
"A few things before you begin. Do not, and I repeat, do not go in my cabinets. I have some Ravenclaw Love Potions stored there," he said, grimacing as if this was a bad thing, "and they are flawless. Use them and you could find yourself embarrassingly attracted to one of your classmates—or me."
"Heaven forbid," Liz mouthed.
"Since love potions are clear, and I have vials of water stored there also, I cannot tell which is which. Which is why I advise you to be careful." He surveyed the class, his yellowing teeth seeming to flicker in the dim candlelight that lit the dungeon. "Begin."
Liz brewed, wondering all the while, however vaguely, if a Love Potion would work on David. The result was a crystal-clear liquid. Michael and Rachel worked hard, too, but Rachel's was murky and Michael's, an electric blue.
"Maybe he won't notice?" Michael said hopefully. Snape passed behind him and marked something round on his clipboard.
Near the end of the period, Rachel was finishing up, standing beneath one of Snape's cupboards. All of a sudden, Liz felt the power welling up inside her. Something was happening—with the cupboard. "Rachel—haywire magic—look out!" she cried. Rachel glanced skyward as a vial came tumbling toward her. It miraculously uncorked itself in midair and landed, open-end first, in her mouth. Winnie Chen burst out laughing.
"Is it water or a potion?" said Rachel, removing the vial from between her lips.
"I believe it was water," said Snape as the bell rang. Everyone left.
"That was strange. Are you all right, Rachel?" said Michael.
"Of course I am, Michael. Why wouldn't I be? I'm with you." And she leaned on his arm, grinning. Michael stared at her, bewildered. "Liz, what's going on?"
Liz gasped. "Oh, no! It wasn't water! It was a Love Potion!"
"Out! Out of my way! I've had an awful time, listening to some nutter jabber on about eckel-thingy-whatever—"
"It's electricity, Michael," Rachel told him, but she did not look too happy either as they sat down at the Gryffindor table across from Liz for lunch.
"Er—how was Muggle Studies—?"
"Awful," Michael declared at once. "The teacher—his name is Rosenberg—he talked about—"
"Electricity," Rachel supplied dully.
"—the whole bloody time!"
Liz looked at him. "So it wasn't so good?"
Michael's eyes widened, but he finally made it out to be a joke. "Not so good," he sighed desperately.
Rachel looked over at him and then at Liz. "How was Ancient Runes?"
"Could've been better," Liz replied. "The subject is good, but the teacher is really...strict."
Rachel nodded and asked, "Any homework? We have two rolls of parchment on how Muggles get along without magic using electricity."
"Come to think of it, no. We didn't really do anything today except go over their rules."
"I'd call that a pretty good class period," Michael said miserably.
"But that was after I lost two points for being late."
"He took points off you?" Michael said incredulously. "But nobody takes points off you! Except Snape, of course, but he doesn't count. Who is this guy, huh? He obviously has no idea who you are."
"Oh, he knows, he spit out my name, took two points, and told me to sit down. He loves the rules. As long as I follow them, I think I'll do really well."
"Because heaven forbid you lose any points besides the ones Snape takes," said Rachel sarcastically.
Liz changed the subject. "Why don't we go see Chris on Friday? It'll be fun."
"Uh, Liz?" said Michael. "We just saw him today and we're going to see him Thursday."
"But that was for classes," said Liz. "We want to continue with his Squib lessons, don't we?"
They stared at her.
"Don't we?"
"Liz," said Rachel, sounding as if she was trying to break it to her gently, "do you remember how that went? Besides, I doubt Chris wants to continue—"
"He does. I asked him last year."
"Oh." Rachel's face fell. So did Michael's.
"But Friday can be a normal visit with him and Hagrid, you know?" Liz said quickly. Keen as she was to continue those lessons, she understood exactly how Rachel and Michael felt. Last year's lessons hadn't gone very well at all.
Soon Friday, the three of them set off to Hagrid's cabin. Chris met them at the door. "Isn't it great that I get to help out with Care of Magical Creatures this year? I always asked Hagrid to let me, and now he finally says yes!" was the first thing he said.
"Maybe he let you because we were there," said Liz.
"Hmm. Maybe. Anyway," he said, lowering his voice, did you come to give another lesson? If so—"
"No, just talk about it a little. You do still want to do it, don't you?"
"Yes, I do. But..."
"But what?"
"Nothing."
"We can't let Hagrid see, right? Or else we're in trouble."
"And," said Chris, "we can't let anyone else see, or we're in Ministry law- breaking trouble."
Hagrid chose that time to approach them and clap Chris on the back, almost knocking him over. "You three enjoying school this year?"
They looked at each other. "Well..."
"Well what?"
"There's Muggle Studies—"
"—and Professor Stickler—"
"—and Snape..."
"What's he done now?" asked Chris.
"Given us too much homework," said Rachel.
"My sister says to have a stock of parchment, just for doing his homework," said Michael.
"Sounds fun," Chris grimaced.
They explained how all their other teachers were, including a memorable episode in Herbology where Professor Longbottom had nearly set greenhouse four on fire. Then they told Hagrid and Chris about their other new classes. Hagrid seemed especially interested in Professor Stickler. "I've met the fella. All rules an' things, but he's a nice guy. Yeh'll get used to 'im."
"I hope," Liz agreed, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece. "Look how late it is! We'd better get going. We have that essay for Snape to do."
Rachel and Michael groaned.
They said goodbye and left, feeling slightly better about the week they had just had.
A couple of weeks into the school year and her mother still hadn't sent another letter. Liz was beginning to get worried. Had anything happened since the last? But all her fears vanished one morning as she saw the showy owl flying toward her, bearing a letter. She opened her dormitory window. Desiree peeked out but said nothing as Liz ushered the owl in and untied the letter.
Dear Elizabeth,
How are you? I wish you the best of luck during your third year. During mine, the Triwizard Tournament came to our school. Your father even competed in it. He won, of course; there was this tragic affair of events in which the other winner was killed. A few years later, it turned out your father had given his winnings to a pair of boys named Fred and George Weasley. They started a joke shop with it. Perhaps you've heard of it? Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Or has it closed down now? Ah, well. I must go. I'll write again.
Luna
Liz grinned. She loved hearing, or rather, reading, her mother recount events of her school day. Inspired, she set off to the library for some free-time reading.
"Let me see...that was the 1994-1995 school year...aw, here we are. A newspaper clipping?" she said, extracting a newspaper clipping from the book she had taken off the shelf. "'Triwizard Tournament. Four champions,'" she read. "'Viktor Krum, 1977-1997. Died in a horrific flying accident. Seeker for Bulgaria from...'" Liz read off a long list of Krum's achievements. "'Fleur Delacour. 1978-? Part vela. Currently resides in Paris. Cedric Diggory. 1978-1995.' In the 1995 school year? 'Killed by Lord Voldemort at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.'"
So that was what her mother had been talking about. That's what she had meant by tragic affair of events.
The piece went on to describe Harry Potter in great detail. Liz slipped the clipping back in, put the book on the shelf, and left with a lot on her mind.
"All right, class, the ingredients are on the board," said Snape.
It was the latest in a series of torturous potion lessons Snape had decided to subject them to on Love Potions.
"A few things before you begin. Do not, and I repeat, do not go in my cabinets. I have some Ravenclaw Love Potions stored there," he said, grimacing as if this was a bad thing, "and they are flawless. Use them and you could find yourself embarrassingly attracted to one of your classmates—or me."
"Heaven forbid," Liz mouthed.
"Since love potions are clear, and I have vials of water stored there also, I cannot tell which is which. Which is why I advise you to be careful." He surveyed the class, his yellowing teeth seeming to flicker in the dim candlelight that lit the dungeon. "Begin."
Liz brewed, wondering all the while, however vaguely, if a Love Potion would work on David. The result was a crystal-clear liquid. Michael and Rachel worked hard, too, but Rachel's was murky and Michael's, an electric blue.
"Maybe he won't notice?" Michael said hopefully. Snape passed behind him and marked something round on his clipboard.
Near the end of the period, Rachel was finishing up, standing beneath one of Snape's cupboards. All of a sudden, Liz felt the power welling up inside her. Something was happening—with the cupboard. "Rachel—haywire magic—look out!" she cried. Rachel glanced skyward as a vial came tumbling toward her. It miraculously uncorked itself in midair and landed, open-end first, in her mouth. Winnie Chen burst out laughing.
"Is it water or a potion?" said Rachel, removing the vial from between her lips.
"I believe it was water," said Snape as the bell rang. Everyone left.
"That was strange. Are you all right, Rachel?" said Michael.
"Of course I am, Michael. Why wouldn't I be? I'm with you." And she leaned on his arm, grinning. Michael stared at her, bewildered. "Liz, what's going on?"
Liz gasped. "Oh, no! It wasn't water! It was a Love Potion!"