When Sirius awoke, Peter was gone already, James was pulling his shirt over his head, Remus was sleeping still, and Allan was tying his shoe. He arose from his bed, and dressed quickly. James and Allan waited for him in the common room, and they headed for the Great Hall.
The hall was full of bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes, toast, marmalade, jams, and pots of tea.
The three boys joining Peter at the Gryffindor, where their pudgy friend was reading The Daily Prophet, and set it aside when they sat down.
Sirius took some tea first, followed by some eggs and bacon with toast with strawberry jam.
"Ah, boys!" said the black-haired woman with her hair in a bun. "I am
Professor McGonagall, Gryffindor's Head. Here are your timetables."
She laid four pieces of paper on the table in front of them. Sirius took one, and read it aloud.
"Monday, Breakfast, Double Potions with Professor E. Ville, in the dungeons, nine-eleven, then Transfiguration with Professor A. Dumbledore, from eleven to noon, then lunch, from noon to one, then Charms with Professor F. Flitwick, from one to two, History of Magic with Professor Binns from two to three, then Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor L. Flogging - what on earth? Flogging?"
"That's what it says." Allan said.
"Flogging, though, come on, Flogging . . . " James said with a giggle.
Remus joined them a little later, looking like he had just climbed out of bed.
"Here . . . our timetable . . . " Peter said, handing Remus his.
"Potions, Transfig, lunch, Charms, History of Magic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts . . . sounds peachy."
The meal was finished slowly, and then the boys headed for Potions. They left the hall, passed the large stairway, and through the door, to Dungeon One.
A tall, shallow skinned man stood in the doorway. His eyes were wild and dangerous, black as night. His teeth were yellow and disgustingly rancid. His hair was long, sleek, and just as dark as his eyes. He grew a small beard.
"Prof-professor Ville?" Sirius shuddered.
"I am Professor Ville, for your putrid information." His voice was low and cold, like a snake bite on the coldest day of the winter. "And who are you, you sniveling Gryffindors?"
"I'm James Potter."
Peter seemed to have wet his pants.
"Peter Pettigrew."
"Remus Lupin."
"Allan Cooper"
"Sirius Black."
"Black, you say?" Ville began to say. "As in Caleb Black?"
"He's my dad. Got a problem with it?" Sirius snapped.
"I will expect great things from you. Take your seats."
The rest of the Gryffindors filed in, with the Slytherins. There was that boy - Severus Snape.
"Now, tell me," said Ville when everyone was in. "What exactly is a bezoar? None?"
Severus stuck his scrawny arm in the arm, his sleeve falling back, pallid skin bared.
"No one?" Ville asked.
"Professor," Severus said, speaking out of turn. "It is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat that will act as a remedy -"
"Severus!" Ville shouted. "I did not ask for your opinion! You will learn to speak when spoke to in my class!"
"I was just answering the damn question!" Severus snapped back.
"I didn't ask you! You will serve a detention with Mr. Filch tonight! Do you understand?" Ville was all out screaming by this time.
"Ouch." Sirius said, leaning over to James. They giggled quietly.
"Do I detect a hint of laughter? I expected great things from you, Mr. Black, but first impressions are the ones that last. Talking in class is not a wise choice to make in my classroom."
"I wasn't laughing," Sirius said "I was making a noise in my throat that may have sounded like a giggle or two - "
"Thirty points from Gryffindor, for your intolerance of answering a simple question."
"This is going to be a shitty year." Sirius whispered to Remus, who smiled faintly.
"Ah, another thirty for again speaking, and another five for language, Black. You have really started this year with a bang." Ville said, an evil sneer coming over his face, as he seated himself at his desk. "And a large bang at that."
Next they had Transfiguration, where they located themselves in a large classroom with desk in neat, uniform rows. An old, wizened man stood at the front, leaning on a large desk with clawed feet. His nose was oblong and bent, and his beard nearly sank to his belt.
"I am Professor Albus Dumbledore." he begun when everyone was seated. "I too know the nervousness and excitement all jumbled together in your stomach until it fills like florescent green goo will burst out of your ears and nearly every other pore in your body. That was a long time ago . . . back in 1851. Ahh, that really ages me. I was in the Gryffindor house, as some of you are. I enjoy ten pin bowling, and chamber music. Enough about me, lets start our lesson. Today we will be introduced to basic Transfiguration, so everyone whip out your little wands and lets begin!"
Every student was handed a quill and was asked to turn in into a stick. Sirius was having trouble, though his quill was starting to brown, James' was flopping around like a gutted fish. Peter's was motionless, though Remus had no trouble with the transformation. Allan got frustrated with his and snapped it in half.
"Ah, what a wonderful oblivion," Professor Dumbledore said. "Sitting and watching young witches and wizards learn the exhilarating joy of Transfiguration. Ah, I see a few of you have been able to tranform a quill into a stick! Kudos to you, and class dismissed!"
Lunch was next, then charms. It was taught by a short little man with a squeaky voice, Professor Filius Flitwick. The class was located on the third floor. It was cluttered by thousands of thick books, and the desks were littered with these. The class settled in.
"Today," said the wizened Flitwick. "We will start learning simple wrist movements for basic charms!"
"I wish I could have as much enthusiasm as some people." Remus whispered, leaning over to James.
"I wish I had enthusiasm period." James replied.
Classes were over for the day. History of Magic was taught by Professor Binns, a old man who had literally no energy at all. When they had walked into the room, he was snoring loudly and proclaiming that the Troll Act of 1312 was absolute rubbish.
"Like Professor Ville said," James began. "We started our seven years with a bloody big bang."
