The next morning after breakfast, Ernie tracked down Neville in the general confusion while students received their class schedules.
"How was your first night in Gryffindor tower?" Ernie asked him.
"Not too bad, I guess, sort of awkward having five of us. Seems like Sean and Dean might have already known each other, and Harry and Ron Weasley made fast friends. It'll be allright, though, Ernie, I'll be ok," Ernie squeezed Neville's shoulder.
"Come down to the dungeons some time. We can have guests in our common room if we want. We've already got tutoring scheduled with the third years for later this week. I'm sure they wouldn't mind an extra. We're right by the kitchens and if we knock on a cupboard just so, the house elves send us popcorn and pumpkin juice."
Neville smiled, "That sounds great Ernie. I better try to make a go of it in Gryffindor, though. Gran already wrote to me this morning about the sorting. She's really happy."
"I bet," Ernie said. "Hey Nev, did you get one of these?" Ernie flashed the Scions of the 28 invitation at Neville and then pushed it back into the pocket of his robes.
Neville just nodded. "I guess Ron must've, too, but he didn't say anything about it. Are you going to go?"
"I don't know. Are you? I was trying to think who else would be there. Hannah Abbot maybe, if they asked girls. Everyone else is in Slytherin, right?"
"I think there might be a Fawley in Ravenclaw, but I'm not sure. I won't go. Gryffindor doesn't really go in for that sort of thing," Neville said.
"I don't go in for that sort of thing, but what is it? A secret, pure blood society? Sounds pretty dodgy. I might go, just to see who's there, to see what they say," Ernie said.
Neville cocked his head at Ernie, "Don't get yourself into trouble, Ern, some of the upper classmen in Slytherin look like they'd not take too kindly to back talk."
Ernie just shrugged, "Looks like we have herbology together later on. See you there!"
Neville waved and disappeared into the crowd. Ernie examined his schedule. Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts with Ravenclaw, Herbology and Charms with Gryffindor, Astronomy and Transfiguration with Slytherin. Ernie found Justin, Wayne, and Zacharias in the crowd and together they walked back to their room to get their potions supplies. It was to be their first class.
They arrived in the dungeon classroom early, since it was such a short walk from their dorm, and joined two other first years that Ernie recognized from the sorting, Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein.
"So, potions! What do you think?" Michael Corner said, by way of greeting, "I've heard the teacher is pretty strict."
Justin nodded, "That's right. One of our housemates was telling me last night. He said that generally, Professor Snape chooses one person from each class to make an example of. I hope it isn't me."
"I'm sure you'll be fine. Potions is said to be pretty difficult, though, like chemistry. In my old school, we wouldn't have started with chemistry until upper secondary school," said Michael Corner.
"Are you muggleborn then?" asked Zacharias. Michael just nodded.
"I'm excited about Potions," Ernie said, "My mom is great at potions and she's taught me some things."
"A potioneer in the making, eh?" Zacharias said, "Lots of good money in that."
"Maybe. I plan to go to muggle university, though. I'm hoping a good potions background will help me with science classes there," Ernie replied.
"Muggle university. Isn't that sort of thing for squibs, and well… muggles?" Zacharias said. Ernie shrugged.
"My mom wants me to go to veterinary school, so we can expand her practice to non-magical animals. She's a healer." Ernie explained.
"You are a wizard, though, correct?" Zacharias said, raising one eyebrow.
"Yeah, I'm a wizard. But there aren't any universities just for wizards in England," Ernie said.
"Do the healer course at the ministry, then." Zacharias said.
"We'll see," said Ernie. The other boys were looking uncomfortable and Zacharias was getting a bit heated.
"Better you than me. Surrounded by muggles all the time. You couldn't even cast a scourgify without getting flagged for violating the statute."
"Well, I have gotten along without sourgify up to this point. I could probably stand to clean without magic if I needed to… I mean, if that's your only objection," said Ernie.
Perhaps fortunately, the class started to fill up at that point and in moments, Professor Snape, the black haired potions master, swept into the room, looking down his long nose at the students.
"Potions," he said, "is a delicate, dangerous science and an exquisite art. With potions, you can do anything that can be done with charms or transfiguration, but you can do it more gently, with better, more durable results. Potions is not for the weak minded," here he sneered at Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones, "nor for the impatient or egotistic," here, he sneered at the Ravenclaws seated in the front row. "With that said," he continued, "If you follow my instructions and do the assigned work, you should have no problems. And so let us begin." He swooped towards the chalkboard where there appeared a recipe. "Work at your tables to attempt this most basic potion, the cheering draft. Mind your fingers with the knives and don't light your robes on fire." With that, the potions professor sat down at his desk and picked up a large book that he held in front of his face.
"That's it?" Wayne hissed, "How do we even start a fire? I don't see any Bunsen burners."
Ernie looked around the class. Everyone was getting out ingredients and gathering equipment slowly, organizing and reorganizing items. It was clear that no one wanted to ask for clarification or more information. Ernie looked at the first instruction on the board: Finely dice three quarters of a root of Asphodel.
"Here's the root of Asphodel. Do you think this is about three quarters? What does it mean to dice? Little pieces?" He whispered across the table to the other Hufflepuff boys.
"I can dice. My mom taught me how to cook. It's what you do with onions," Wayne said.
"Great," Ernie said, sliding the root over the table, "Zacharias, do you know how to charm a flame? I think my parents always did it wordlessly," Ernie said.
Zacharias winced, "Mine, too," he said.
Justin was hanging his cauldron from the little hook above the table that was clearly placed there for that purpose, above an impression in the table that suggested to Ernie a place for fire. As Wayne diced busily, the other three looked around the room. Hannah and Susan, working with a couple of Ravenclaw girls, had managed to conjure a little blue flame beneath their cauldron. Terry Boot and Michael Corner were sidling over to the girls, clearly looking for guidance. Ernie decided to do the same.
"I'll be back," he whispered to his group, and he tip-toed towards the growing group at the center of the room. By consensus, all of the students were being as quiet as possible. No one wanted to disturb the terrifying potions master. When he arrived in the little bunch of students, Susan gave him a tight smile.
"It's flamma amica," she said, pointing her wand at the little ball of blue flames that were cozily warming the cauldron bottom.
"Thanks!" Ernie whispered back, and rushed over to his own table to cast the spell. Slowly but surely, all the groups in the potions lab were making progress on the instructions, darting back and forth silently to hiss information to one another and exchange vocabulary and cooking tips. Wayne proved to be especially helpful in this regard. It was clear he had spent quite a lot of time cooking. When Ernie expressed his surprise Wayne mumbled "Master Chef," as he hurriedly sliced thin slivers of shrivelfig. "Definitely," Ernie replied. Justin chuckled, "It's a show. On the tele, about cooking?" Ernie just shrugged. His family's love of muggle culture didn't extend to television shows.
Just as the warning chime sounded, the boys had achieved the pale yellow color indicated in the last line of the recipe. They smiled at one another, and a quick glance around the room indicated to Ernie that most of the other groups had also succeeded at the task. Professor Snape lowered his book and stood.
"Now we will see what sort of mess you dunderheads have made," he said. Ernie looked down at the table. He'd never heard a teacher speak to students this way at his old school. The potions master swooped from table to table, observing the contents of each cauldron without comment. He returned to his desk and looked out at the class. "I see that you have all decided to plagiarize one another's work. In future, please keep in mind that potions class is graded on an individual basis. Since you have all collaborated on this potion, I am forced to divide one score between, let's see, 20 of you. Which means you owe me points. So… five points each from Hufflepuff and from Ravenclaw. No go."
Everyone stood in stunned silence. The unfairness was shocking. They had successfully brewed the potion. Each group had concocted a cheering draught. Yet they lost house points. Was it a test of some sort? Was Professor Snape trying to scare them, or prove his strictness? To Ernie, it just seemed like abuse. He hadn't taught them a thing, and had punished them for helping each other.
"I said go!" Professor Snape shouted. The first years started in fright and then began clearing away their potions ingredients and equipment. They silently packed up their things in the first year cupboard and filed out of the classroom.
"He ought to slurp down those cheering draughts, if you ask me," Hannah said grumpily as the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws trudged up the steps from Snape's dungeon classroom.
"Are all the teachers here like that?" asked Justin with wide eyes.
"I hope not," Ernie said, "My parents only told me good things about Hogwarts."
"Well, that was a total fiasco. That person should not be teaching in a school," Michael Corner said from behind. "Is every class going to be that way? Are we to teach ourselves potions?"
"I'm sure he was only trying to separate the wheat from the chaff," Zacharias said, "It is difficult to know what students know individually when they share information with one another."
No one responded to that, although Ernie caught Susan Bones rolling her eyes at Hannah. They, and the two Ravenclaw girls at their cauldron, clearly had the best working knowledge of the potions ingredients and charms work necessary for brewing and Zacharias hadn't hesitated to get as much information as possible from them during the potions class. Ernie was on the point of inviting the Ravenclaws to their potions tutoring sessions in the common room, but they had arrived at the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Given the last hour and a half, all of the students were spooked into silence as they waited for Professor Quirrell to reveal himself.
Quirrell was late, which gave Ernie time to look around the room, and to smell it. In contrast to the potions lab, which had a not unpleasant astringent aroma, Quirrell's classroom reeked of garlic. Other students were wrinkling their noses and glancing about to seek the source of the stench. The walls of the room were bare and the teacher's desk in the front of the room didn't have a single private possession, or even a paper atop it. In fact, the classroom looked so unused that Ernie started to wonder if they were in the right place. Just then, Professor Quirrell arrived.
He was young, and seemed extraordinarily nervous. He stammered and dropped the chalk he was holding. He continuously wiped his palms down his robes and occasionally stopped speaking in the middle of a sentence to gaze out the window. After only 30 minutes, he abruptly released the class and said he'd see them the next day.
"We don't have DADA again until Wednesday!" Justin said, looking disturbed. "I really hope the other classes are better."
Ernie wholeheartedly agreed, but he was happy to be going to lunch early. Together with the other first years, he filed into the great hall and sat down at the Hufflepuff table to wait for lunch. Before long, flagons of pumpkin juice and an assortment of sandwiches appeared and everyone dug in. The abysmal quality of teaching they had just experienced hadn't interfered with their appetites. After lunch, their moods were much improved, and they walked across the grounds under the warm September sun to the greenhouses, where they were met by the Gryffindor first years and Professor Sprout.
Fortunately, their remaining classes were much better than the first two. Professor McGonagall was serious and strict, but she clearly planned to teach them. Professor Flitwick was cheerful and let them use their wands from the start, so his class was very exciting. Professor Sprout was kindly, and Ernie felt especially close to her since she was his head of house. Professor Sinistra was very glamourous, and, unlike the other teachers, she provided them with a syllabus of what they would learn that year. Ernie tucked it into his bag, vowing to read ahead.
Fridays were more unstructured than the rest of the week. First years spent the morning in study halls and had the afternoon free. Ernie was pleased, as he headed to breakfast on Friday morning, to have made it through the first week. Professors Snape and Quirrell notwithstanding, it seemed that he would learn a lot in his first year at Hogwarts.
One thing was weighing on his mind, however, and that was the cream-colored parchment he still carried in the inside pocket of his robes. He had selected the box for "will attend" and had re-inserted the invitation into its envelope, as requested. Thus far, he had not received any further instructions, but the idea of walking alone through the castle at night to meet up with students who had formed a secret society based on their supposed, shared nobility, gave him a strange feeling in his stomach. He couldn't tell if it was fear, or excitement.