Chapter 8: First Lessons

Demeter has her first classes at Hogwarts. And she learns a lot more then she expected.

I sat next to Harry in our first period class, Potions. I never realized that this classroom

would look so dark and gloomy. The walls of worn stone seemed to be fading in the dim sad

light. There were no windows in the room at all. I wondered if they held prisoners in the

dungeons before it became a school. I wondered how many tormented torn souls had probably

wasted away in this gloomy prison cell. But what would I expect from the dungeons?

Just then, the classroom door opened and the class went into an ominous silence. Entering

the room was a tall pale man with greasy long black hair.

He came in like a dark looming shadow that seemed to send a chill through the miserable

room. He had clammy pale skin and a large hooked nose. His dark black eyes glared from one

guilty face to the next as he spoke in a drawling voice.

"Welcome to the first Potions class of the term. I hope that at least some you will be able

to pass this term to move on to the next," As he said this he stared coldly at Neville, who

whimpered back in fear with a squeamish look on his round face.

"For those of you who don't know, or may have forgotten, I am Professor Snape. I will not be

called anything else besides Sir," He continued.

I knew this man. He was a former death eater, but he betrayed us and left us for the enemy,

Albus Dumbledore.

That trader, it was rumored he had spied on the death eaters and sent our information to a

secret organization, 'The Order of the Phoenix'. I still hadn't forgiven him for that.

His glare fell on me and he held it for a moment, not speaking. I glared back, daring him to

speak.

"Welcome to Hogwarts miss Duller," he said seeming to hold back the struggle to be polite.

I didn't talk; I just glared. I had never liked this man, and I never will. I would never

betray the death eaters like he did. I had hoped that I would get the dark mark to prove my

loyalty to Voldemort. Unlike Snape who, I was sure, still bore the mark was now unworthy of

it.

"Your directions are on the board. Read them thoroughly and correctly and you'll might pass

today's assignment," Snape said now turning away from me.

Harry showed me how to use the ingredients, instructions, and supplies. We were supposed to

make a taste vanishing potion. If it's drunken before you eat something, what ever you eat

you can't taste it. You can still feel the food in your mouth but you just can't taste it.

The directions said it was supposed to turn a dark blue if everything was done properly. I

did everything exactly as it said on the board as best as I could. Snape kept breathing down

my neck as I worked. He seemed to be watching me as closely as Farnest did.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose up when he asked me if I was sure I was putting in an

ingredient correctly. This man was really starting to get on my nerves.

When Snape called to stop, he walked around inspecting everyones' cauldrons. Neville looked

as if he might throw up as snape looked into his cauldron sternly.

After failing Neville and taking points from Gryffindor, he came up to our table next. He

looked into mine first. Studied it for a moment with a stern expression.

"Tell me miss Duller," he said his voice as cold as the room, "Do you think just because

you're a new student you can get away with anything?"

I didn't answer. I didn't know how to answer. I just stared into his hateful empty black

eyes.

"Do you really think I would let you get away with anything don't you?" He now whispered

menacingly, "not paying attention in class? Making a potion incorrectly? Jinxing another

student? Starting a fight? Lacking in class?" he now leaned down to me so that we were now

at complete eye level. I stared at him with all the courage I had in me as he said the next

thing in a deadly whisper, " I Murder? I "

I searched his eyes for an answer. Did he really know my secret for being here? Or was he

just trying to scare me? Even if he was trying to interrogate me, he was failing. I learned

harshly not to give in when being interrogated.

Again I didn't speak. He stood up again and said in his normal tone again. "The potion was

supposed to change into a dark navy blue, not midnight blue,"

I looked down at my potion. How the heck was he supposed to know the difference?

"20 points from Gryffindor," he said in slight amusement as he strode off to the next

victim.

Now I was in my Defense Against the Dark Arts class, waiting for the teacher to arrive. This

classroom wasn't as gloomy looking as the dungeons. On the contrary, it wasn't gloomy at

all. In a word, it was old fashioned.

It had well kept tile wooden floors. The wooden walls were covered in antique object from

many different cultures around the world. Some were trophies of animal heads and animal skin

rugs. The room was also well lit, unlike the dungeons.

From the desk in front of me, I heard Ron and Harry talking about Quidditch.

I perked up to listen. I had learned that Harry liked to play Quidditch, and that he had

quit a knack for it.

"When's the try out for the team, Harry?" Ron asked.

"This Saturday," Harry said, "I hope we find someone good. I heard Neville might audition,"

"We could sell tickets for that kind of show," Harry and Ron laughed.

"You boys play Quidditch?" I asked interestedly.

"You bet," Ron said turning to me, "Harry here is the captain of the team."

Harry gave me a small smile.

"What position do you play?" I asked curiously.

"I play Seeker," Harry said then asked me, "Are you going to try out for the team?"

I thought for a moment. I hadn't had a good exercise for a while. Quidditch would be an

excellent opportunity to get closer to Harry.

"Sure," I said after a moment of thinking.

"What position?"

"Chaser,"

At that moment, the classroom door opened and in came Farnest.

He looked as tired and as old as usual. He wobbled into the room, clutching tightly on his

wooden cane. He wore a gray tailored suit, black dress shoes, and a matching hat. His old,

wrinkled, loose, pale skin looked just as tragic as ever. It seemed as if it hurt him to

even walk. I noted his eyes were hazel today.

He finally made it to his desk and grabbed its edge for support, looking completely tuckered

out. He looked around the classroom with his hazel eyes. His gaze swept over me, and I swear

I saw a flash of purple in those eyes.

"Good morning class," He said in a surprisingly sturdy voice. "Welcome to the Defense

Against the Dark Arts,"

The class sat in silence and he continued. "I would like to our first lesson with our text

books. So turn to page 98,"

There was a shuffle of opening of textbooks and turning pages. On the page was a series of

questions and paragraphs about the subject.

"If you would please answer the questions and you'll find the answers in you textbook,"

Farnest said.

As we did our work, Farnest hobbled around the room, looking over the students' shoulders

and checking their work.

As I worked, I could hear his cane and shuffling weak feet come up to my desk from behind

me. I felt his disturbing presence just behind me; it was getting hard to concentrate.

I turned around to look at him. I found he had a rather pleased look on his face.

Be bent down next to me and said, "You'll do good in this class,"

He patted my shoulder; his grip was weak. My shoulder went surprisingly in a limp.

For the rest of the lesson, Farnest seemed to be slightly more energized. I felt very

suspicious about him. There was something that I just didn't trust in him. What it was I

didn't know. But I knew I would find out sooner or later.