Double Potions, Double Trouble
James, like many other first years, woke up well before the crack of dawn. In
As wonderful a place Hogwarts was, whoever designed the castle must have had only one thought in mind: confounding new students. There were over a hundred staircases, (142 to be exact) in the rambling castle. James quickly learned that in the wizarding world, things aren't always what they seem to be. For instance, there's a staircase that seems to be heading up but is actually heading down. There were invisible steps you had to remember to jump and staircases that didn't exist on Tuesdays. Of course there were normal stairs as well, narrow, broad and rickety. Every variety of stairs ever invented. The walls were just about as 'interesting' as well. Sometimes walls pretended to be doors and doors pretended to be walls. Sometimes you had to tickle those doors before they let you in. And the portraits on the walls. They were just spectacular. Although they were useless as markers (the kept moving around) they were quite helpful in pointing you the right way.
Of course, there were always people quite willing to help James out. Indeed, they were a bit too willing. Onetime a seventh year he'd never seen before doubled back to shake his hand and to see if he needed any help. Always, there were mutterings and whisperings. People stared as he passed by as if he had came back from the dead. Though truth be told, he kind of had come back from the dead.
Luckily, he didn't get the hero treatment from Felix and Luke. To them, he was nothing more than a friend, and friends were always the most important people at all. Finally, there were no evil twins conspiring around his back , or cruel step parents ready to give him a beating. All he had were his friends, and that was more than he could have ever dreamed.
Anyways, James, Luke and Felix had a bit more of an immediate problem. How the heck were they supposed to get to their worst class: Double Potions. The caretaker, Charlie Chump, a rather friendly, if somewhat senile, old man, had asked for their help in finding some papers he had inadvertently dropped. They were some notes for the Defense against the dark arts class about Dementors from Professor Tonks. They kindly obliged expecting it to be a good enough excuse to be a little late to class. Plus, Chump gladly showed them the shortest way to the Potions dungeons for future reference.
The dungeons were certainly not a place James would like to get lost in. The tunnels were dark and narrow, lit only by small torches glimmering in the darkness. James could imagine Crabbe teaching in a place like this.
"Here's the note," said James handing Professor Crabbe a little note, as he stepped into the room. The walls were lined with about twenty cauldrons, the chairs filled with Slytherins and Gryffindors.
He examined it carefully trying his holding it up into the light determined to find a forgery. And unfortunately, Professor Crabbe decided he had found a forgery.
"I don't like students coming in late," said the man coldly staring straight at James, "especially arrogant little prats like you."
He wasn't sure why, but Professor Crabbe seemed more angry with James than anyone else.
"Five points from Gryffindor," he said coldly, "Next time I will take fifty."
Wolfgang and the Slytherins in the room snickered; Gryffindor was already five points down.
"Now that we are through with pleasantries," said Professor Crabbe, "It's time for a little demonstration."
Professor Crabbe was a rather frightening sight. He was thickset man, with muscles bulging from every part of his body. His hands swung from side to side, like the hands of a brutish ape. He had an ugly pug like face that always had this kind of dumb look. His big brown eyes stared dully, as if he were somewhat bored, at the world around him. The words that came out of his mouth often sounded more like grunts than anything else.
With a swish of his wand, bottles, vials and herbs flew out of his cabinet directly into his gargantuan hands.
"Horned toad, abyssinian Shrivelfig, belladonna, wormwood, " snarled Professor Crabbe, "Tell me Potter, what can I make with this."
"I don't know," said James; the only people who seemed to know the answer were Wolfgang and Gwen Trouble.
"Some more points you've lost for Gryffindor," said Professor Crabbe curtly, "Wolfgang, why don't you enlighten us a little?" asked Professor Crabbe.
"Those are the essential ingredients for a wart making potion." drawled Wolfgang haughtily.
"I would advise you to take notes," rumbled Professor Crabbe, "Perhaps you might become as smart as Wolfgang, but I doubt any of you near his intelligence. I'm not at all surprised that celebrities like Potter wouldn't dare actually study and don't worry Potter, there is nothing stopping me from failing you. Five points to Slytherin." Gwen looked like she was about to puke into her cauldron; maybe she wasn't a prat after all.
With another swish of his wands, all of the items needed for the charm flew onto their desks and the directions were written on the wall.
Everyone in the room started working on their work as soon as Crabbe barked "start."
The class never really got any better, only worse. Gwen successfully managed to get her potion right before anyone else and went up to Crabbe's cauldron expecting for praise. Crabbe was more likely to sprout wings than actually give a student without the name Wolfgang any praise.
"Why'd he take those points from me," whined James as he tried he shredded his toads skin, "what'd I ever do to him."
"Don't speak to loudly," whispered Felix, "Crabbe doesn't like complainers. Especially Gryffindor complainers."
By the end of class, James had already managed to lose another ten points because his potion wasn't green enough, (although much greener than the pink gush Kriller came up with) and for not crushing his toad skin finely enough, (James pretended he was crushing Crabbe's face after that.)
Soon, the two-hour torture session was over and James was able to leave the potion room a free man.
"Anyone for skipping Potions tomorrow," suggested Luke as they headed out the door.
Then they heard one might BANG, echo from the potions corridor and one angry Crabbe chasing after them. It was possibly one of the most amusing things James had ever seen; someone must have put some kind of explosive in the wart-growing potion because Crabbe was covered from head to tough in warts. They multiplied like bacteria in a petri dish making him l
"I KNOW IT WAS YOU POTTER," howled Crabbe in agony, but James and his friends only ran. It was a race Crabbe knew he had no hope of winning, and didn't try. Plus, he had absolutely no evidence to say James had anything to do with it, and mostly because James didn't have anything to do with it.
Whatever it was, the rest of James's classes were quite a bit better. Professor Longbottom for Herbology was about as different from Crabbe as he could get. He took them down to the Herbology where he showed them where everything was, gave some basic procedure and let them goof off for the rest of the time.
Professor Prometheus, the Transfiguration Professor, was also different. He reminded James of an old goat for some reason. Short, with an extremely large head, Professor Prometheus sounded a bit like a mad scientist from those muggle movies. He raved on and on about the new inventions he was making while the rest of the class sat there dazed and confused. Only Gwen took the effort to take notes.
Professor Binn, the History teacher, was the only ghost Professor at Hogwarts. The class started in a fairly interesting manner, with several girls shrieking as Binn traveled through the wall. The rest of the class redefined boring. Professor Binn went into goblin rebellions as soon as he finished calling roll. And the class, (of course with the exception of Gwen) fell asleep right afterwards.
The Charms class, taught by Professor Cheeks, wasn't too bad either. Professor Cheeks, a short squat mouse like woman. She was standing on her chair, peering over her desks when the class entered trying to get a better view of her new students.
James's favorite class by far had to be Defense Against the Dark Arts, which was taught by Professor Black.
"Welcome everyone," she said as the class filled up, "Well this is going to be your first defense against the dark arts class and my first time teaching a defense against the dark arts class so we're even."
Professor Tonks was a tall thin, middle-aged woman with slightly graying hair. She exuded a sense of friendliness, and didn't seem too much of a stickler about rules. But what surprised him most was what she was doing with her nose; she was making it grow bigger and smaller at will. One moment Jacko, the next Pinocchio.
"Does anyone here know, exactly what the dark arts are?"' asked Professor Tonks.
Gwen, as usual was the only person to raise her hand, "According to the book, defense against the dark arts are any magic which serves the purpose of harming another."
"Exactly," said Professor Tonks, "A point for Gryffindor. Now the important thing to remember is that any magic can be considered dark. Any takers on why?"
James figured he might as well take a shot, it'd be nice to earn some of the points Crabbe stole back.
"Erm, because if the user of magic has dark intentions than anything could be dark?" answered James waveringly.
"Exactly," snapped Professor Tonks, "Another point for Gryffindor. Character is something I don't think I'll be able to teach but that's definitely the single most important thing to learn. The problems of the magical world aren't created by dark magic but by dark people."
"So the big question is how do we tell who is a dark wizard, anyone know how?" she asked. Seeing the blank stares of the class room, she replied for them
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE" she barked, and to James's shock, she broke down into laughter.
"I've got one last question for all of you before you're free to go," she stated, "What do you want to learn this year. I'm being perfectly serious now, no point teaching you stuff you don't really want to know."
"How to duel," Luke suggested, "Sounds like a lot of fun."
"Trust me," said Professor Tonks, "dueling hurts a lot. Still, I don't mind teaching you first years. But before we get to that level, all of you need to know the very basics first. But anyways, you're free to go."
As mulled outside the class, Felix commented, "Remember the explosion in Crabbe's?"
"Yeah,"
"Any idea who made the explosion?" asked Felix.
"None of us," said Luke, "I would have noticed otherwise."
"I doubt it was one of the Slytherins," said James, "why'd they ever do anything to bother him."
"None of the girls," added Luke, "I can't see any of them actually getting into trouble, especially that Gwen girl. Probably Crabbe being to thick headed to get a potion right."
"Fifty points from Gryffindor for disrespect," James heard something growl from behind his back. The trio stopped, mortified in what they'd said.
They slowly turned around praying that it was a figment of their imaginations, that Crabbe hadn't really just taken fifty points from them but it was no hope; Crabbe might as well have put a patent on his rumble.
But to James's incredible surprise, there was only a small dark haired girl. She stared at them intently, with a perfectly straight face as Luke exploded.
"Where'd he go," spat Luke wondering just exactly how and why a gorilla would sneak up behind him telling him he'd lost fifty points and ran away.
By this time, Gwen was cracking up, dropping her bag and falling over on bended knee laughing.
"You should have seen your face," she giggled, and suddenly broke back into her impersonation of Crabbe, "Fifty points for your sheer stupidity."
"Where did that come from," ruminated Felix out loud.
"The same place the little bomb in the cauldron came from." continued Gwen with a Cheshire cat like smile.
"That was you!" said Luke incredulously, "That was wicked brilliant."
"Library anyone," she suggested.
