Chapter Nine: Classes 1st of September
My classes were somewhat enjoyable, despite the whispering and passing of notes amongst the students in my class. McGonagall had come around our table at breakfast handing out timetables, and mine looked like this.
Monday: Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, History, Defence Against the Dark Arts
Tuesday: Herbiology, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Astrology
Wednesday: Double History, Double Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions
Thursday: Double Potions, Double Transfiguration, Herbiology
Friday: Double Herbiology, Double Charms, History
I had each of my subjects four times a week. It looked like fun.
That morning after breakfast, I packed my bag with parchment, textbooks, inkwells and quills and hightailed it downstairs for my first class.
Potions was taught under the school in the dungeons, and it was taught by the teacher dressed all in black. The class had been chattering quite happily while we lined up outside of dungeon one, but silence fell as the teacher strode past us and into the open door without a word. Uncertain, those at the front of the line looked in after him for instructions. They got them, alright.
"What are you all standing idle for?" the teacher barked. "When I enter a classroom I expect everybody to be sitting at their benches with all their required working utensils out ready to start doing work. You will need this particular skill for the rest of your Potions classes here at Hogwarts!"
His name was Professor Snape. All throughout the lesson he was bad-tempered, scolding people for dropping quills, talking quietly while taking notes, every single minor thing that happened that couldn't have possibly made any teacher go nuts. I didn't let him faze me, no matter how many times he looked my way and sneered. His subject was an interesting one, and one that I had quite been looking forward to.
That lesson we took down notes on the effects of several magical plants after being mixed into potions, as well as unicorn horn and porcupine quills. Everything was all too hard to remember, and there were distractions in the room. It was like the apothecary in Diagon Alley, with jars of pickled animals and books on potion-making and spare cauldrons sitting around the place.
Snape started us on a simple potion called the Aristotle of Aristoteles, an ancient Greek remedy for the common allergy. We had to pair up for this. Jim was in my class, I had noticed, and he had been eyeing me before someone tapped him on the shoulder and achieved his nod of approval. Once more, the look of apology.
Seeing as everybody in Gryffindor bustled to get someone other than me, I turned to the Slytherins.
We shared the class as a symbiotic period. All of them, boys and girls, all sported mean grins at some points, and they shrieked and yelled a lot while the potions were bubbling. Whilst Snape seemed to enjoy snapping at people from my House, he didn't do much to calm down the Slytherins. I figured that he had to be the Head teacher of their House like McGonagall was Head of ours. I couldn't help that. I had to ask someone to pair with me.
"Need a partner, partner?"
It was too late…weirdly. Someone had beaten me to asking. It was a boy about my height, with sleek brown hair swept coolly around his head, and gray amber eyes. They were cold, though, and resembled the reflection off a hard, glass marble. The green serpent for Slytherin was emblazoned on the front of his robes.
"Alright," I said, sounding hesitant without intending to. The slight falter in my voice made this Slytherin laugh.
"It's okay, Dolly Kora," he said, patting my back and earning the stares of every Gryffindor in the dungeon. "I won't hurt you. Working together on this? It's an honour."
Yeah, I thought, before you burst up into flames.
"I'm Frances. Frances Avery." "Avery? You mean, your dad Avery, who works in the Department of Mysteries?" "Pleased to be your acquaintance, Dolly Kora. I'm glad that you have heard of my family name." "Why do you call me 'Dolly'?" "Please, it's a word that means good. To me you are an appealing, inane young woman. Allow me to call you this." "Sure thing…Frances."
I wasn't stupid. I knew for a fact that 'dolly' actually meant 'pretty but silly' young woman, and he had underestimated me by thinking that I didn't. Well, hardy ha ha, stranger, I've found your dumb alibi already. I'd better not trust any of these Slytherins. I should've realized a long time ago, when I first looked at his eyes. They practically dripped untrustworthiness.
The potion actually turned out good. It was the right colour anyway, and Snape seemed satisfied as he came along to check us. Frances was a smart little prick, managing to talk and keep track of time even as he and I worked.
"So. The infamous Kora Rastrick. I don't know if you noticed, but many of the kids here weren't exactly expecting you to show up this year."
"Why not?" Maybe I sounded just a bit severe.
"Well, it's all about the reputation thing. You're not exactly popular, are you?"
"You shouldn't use the word 'exactly' two times in a row," I said for the sake of it.
"Tell me, how do you feel about all this? I'm sure that coming into Hogwarts had never been one of your plans, given the special family tradition."
"Family tradition? Is that what you call it?"
"I could call it 'curse' if you prefer it that way. It's the correct term, no?"
I just shrugged. "Whatever. Frances." He was smooth-spoken, and had no problem with speaking his mind. But he was a pain in the neck, why the heck was he even talking to me?
We were quiet as we were taking a sample for Snape in a flask. I went up to give it to him – he said lowly without looking up, "Enjoy your first potion lesson, Ms Rastrick?"
Unsure of what to say, I simply said, "Yes, sir, I did. It was interesting."
He just gave a slight nod. I returned to my seat next to Frances, who said in my ear, "Did you know that Snape hates doing this subject?"
I usually took gossip as a form of insult towards the person being gossiped about, but just this once I countered, "Why does he hate it?" "Rumours go that he wants to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. It's because of his past, before he became a teacher. He used to do the Dark Arts for a living." "What –?"
Frances' tone was dramatic. "He used to be a supporter of…You-Know-Who."
You-Know-Who, or He Who Must Not Be Named. To Pop and I, he was notoriously known as Yak-Kindling-Warthog, and He Who Marvels Nigh Bottom Nearby (basically he who finds a nearby butt awesome). I don't take it seriously now when anyone mentions the Dark Lord's nicknames, so I always laugh.
I laughed. Frances' eyes widened slightly in surprise. "You dare mock him?"
I wiped the smile off my face. "No, it's just that – "
"Unbelievable." Frances was about to split his face from his revelation. "Dolly Kora laughs at the concept of the most feared Dark wizard for a century."
"Well, he's gone now, isn't he?" I pointed out. "There's no reason to be scared. Harry Potter took care of him."
For the first time, Frances took on a face other than his own fake one. This time, he looked threatening and menacing. When he spoke, he sounded nowhere near smooth-spoken, although he still spoke his mind.
"Harry Potter," he positively snarled. "What magic had he done to repel the Dark Lord? Nothing. Why is he so special?"
"Well, you see, Frances, that's the whole point. No one knows how he survived the attack, so it must've been something real big that he's hiding from everybody…or he doesn't know about it himself." Your identity is over, Avery. I know who you are now. Stay the hell away from me.
At that point the bell went. Frances jerked, and his face melted back to the same silky face that had greeted me before. "It was a pleasure to work with you, Dolly Kora." "Believe me, Frances, it was interesting."
I looked at my timetable – Charms. That was on the third floor, no problems. Professor Flitwick, a tiny man who barely came up to my waist, took my all-Gryffindor class through levitating spells, and as a joke I levitated Jim's hat off his head. When he had realized what was happening, he sent the same spell (Wingardium Leviosa!) back at my books. They flew into the air and knocked the poor teacher down.
"Well!" he wheezed as he got back up. "That was quite impressive, Mr Rickman…Ms Rastrick…ten points to Gryffindor." My first contribution to my House. Maybe my last, even.
We had a half hour break after that. Jim was taken away by a wild group of noisy Gryffindors, and I didn't see him that whole break. I spent it down at the lake under a growing birch tree there, doing as much as I could of Snape's potions homework.
After break, we had Transfiguration with McGonagall, who was as patient as she was strict. A lot of the class time was spent on theory, but before the Gryffindors could start moaning in boredom she introduced us to the magic of it all. We regretted it, though. Even changing a pin into a match was hard, although I aced mine on first go. It had to be beginner's luck.
Then we had History. Here, our teacher was Professor Binns, and he was a ghost. Apparently he didn't know that he was dead, and he gave the slowest, most boring talks I had ever heard. Still, it was a good thing because I was able to write down his speech almost word for word in my notebook, serving as study notes for later. We all gave a sigh of relief when the bell rang, which was the signal for lunch.
Defence Against the Dark Arts was our last class for that day. As I walked into the classroom, I noted that the thin, dully-dressed man standing at the blackboard was the nervous wizard I had noticed at the Sorting. Up close, he didn't seem nervous at all. If anything, he was pleasant, and lively.
"So!" He beamed at us. "I'm hoping that these are my new first years, am I right?"
A few people nodded, others chimed in a "Yes."
"Great! I haven't gotten the wrong timetable after all. If I had, the deputy principal would've been at my throat!" Seeing a few alarmed faces, he added, "But we all know that Professor McGonagall isn't like that…the majority of the time…
"Yes! Defence Against the Dark Arts. I'm your teacher now and forever, amen, my name is Professor Aidan Duckett. The first things you should know about this class is that…it is not about the Dark Arts. Whatever the older students have been saying, they're pulling your leg. This subject is about the precautions that have to be taken when around or facing the Dark Arts, hence the name. Yes we do learn all sorts about the Underworld if need so called but we also learn a fair few interesting gimmicks to foil them. Therefore DADA, as it is abbreviated, is a fun class and there is no doubt that you will want more while you've had a taste of it."
He clapped his hands together. "Alright! We sitting down? Good! First thing on my planner is to have a group discussion for everybody to warm up to everybody. And guess what out topic is? Magical creatures! Yes, it has nothing to do with anything associated with the world such as…the civil murders and torture of innocent witches and wizards…"
He looked right at me when he said it. I sat up, and got the message straight away.
You and I are going to clash, Ms Rastrick. Oh, yes, we are.
"But hey, we're not doing that sort of stuff till our third term! So let's all make the best of it. Who knows how to coax Bowtruckles from gorging the eyes out of you?"
School was over, we had all had dinner. In the common room everybody was up and talking about the events of their day, whether it was good or bad. Jim was with them, no doubt. As I dutifully continued my homework, I heard an especially loud gasp from the common room. Maybe Jim had told them how he had the ability to talk through thoughts. I shook my head – no longer was I feeling special now that he had told everybody else. Oh well, it didn't matter. He wasn't friends with me anymore anyway.
I sat on my bed in the empty dorm, Torque gently preening herself at my headrest, my homework spread out in front of me. My first day had gone fine…no one had really disturbed me. For that I was grateful.