-Chapter Six-
Knowledge and Secrets
The first year Slytherins filtered out of the common room, leaving Harry standing where he was, staring at the scarred metal token. He didn't notice that a small number followed the six prefects through one door, whereas over half of them entered a door on the other side of the common room. He didn't notice the fire dying down, only a few flames remaining to lick around the unmarked logs. All he knew was that his hope had shattered. He had hoped that Hogwarts would be different. He had hoped that there wouldn't be any more Dudley Dursleys or Piers Polkisses or Dennis or Gordon or Malcolm or anybody like that. Well, if that was the way the world worked, then it would take a lot of effort to work around that. Perhaps, one day, he might figure something out that would make people just leave him alone, whether for his fame or as a target.
Finally, he looked up from the mocking word on the token. Allies. As if he'd ever ally himself with the bullies in the 'Heirs' quarters. That thought dissipated when he saw the common room. Suddenly, it looked nothing like it had before. It was now so much brighter and more colourful. Green was the predominant colour, rather than grey. There were bright, emerald-green drapes breaking up the wall, and upon that wall were the same portraits, but with their canvases no longer dark and obscured. Wizards of old dozed in their frames and wind blew through landscapes of verdant forest and lively marshes.
The leather of the chairs was a stately forest green, with warm, chocolatey mahogany wood, polished to a mirror shine. The desks and bookshelves were made from a similar wood, radiating warmth throughout the room. A beautiful crystal chandelier now hung from the ceiling, lighting up the chamber and burning away the shadows from its corners. Even the gloom of the scene outside the window was given a small amount of relief and Harry could make out the shapes of the occasional fish swimming past and the long tendrils of some kind of freshwater plant stretching up towards the surface of what was presumably the lake, waving lazily in the eddies of the water. Still, little light filtered through the window, although this was now due too the time of day.
Harry could no longer keep a yawn at bay; it had been a long day and a truly emotional rollercoaster. A lot of things had happened and he had so many questions, although he knew it would have to wait until the morning. Hopefully, he would be able to avoid those who wished him harm and, if he could just make it to the great hall, under the watchful eyes of the teachers, he would have no problems. It would be just like being back in primary school, where he had, every day, asked his teacher if her could stay inside for part of their lunch break and help out around the classroom. That had been a common way to avoid the sport of Harry hunting, although his teachers had been reluctant, as though they were worried about getting into trouble themselves, for some reason.
As soon as he thought about sleeping, he felt like he knew where to go to find his bed. He walked towards the door opposite the one entered by the prefects and some of his year, and opened it to reveal a passage barely wide enough for two people to walk along side by side. There were three doors on each side, plus one at the end, and it was to this end door that Harry automatically headed. Inside was an arched chamber, warmer than an underground, stone-lined room ought to be. Candles through warm light around the room and the forest green and chocolate mahogany theme of the common room was mirrored here. All in all, it was nowhere near as bad as the whole chamber snake debacle had suggested.
"Quite nice, this," Harry commented, seeing that Blaise, Tracey, Crabbe and Goyle were still awake.
"This?" Tracey asked with a raised eyebrow. "It's so dull and gloomy and, to top it all off, I have to share this room with four boys. That's just gross."
"I see what you mean," Harry said, sympathising with the odd unisex living quarters. "Give me a quick minute, Tracey." Harry went to Blaise first. The boy was sitting cross-legged on his bed, reading the introduction to their Potions textbook. "Hey, Blaise. Could we have a quick chat outside?"
Blaise looked up to regard Harry's earnest expression. "Sure thing." He closed the Potions book and unfolded his legs.
"Could you help me get Crabbe and Goyle to come with us?" Blaise raised his eyebrows, then looked towards Tracey's part of the room. He nodded, then headed over to Crabbe.
#
When Harry woke up, he could hear the soft breathing of the other four. He wasn't surprised to find that they were all still asleep. Since he'd started to build the secret exit from his cupboard under the stairs, he had grown accustomed to having only a few hours of sleep. His body no longer needed it and he had trained his body to expect good things when he went to bed late or got up early. Thus it was that Harry changed in relative silence and left via the common room, glancing at the section of wall just under the big window as he passed.
After the first grey rays of sunlight rippling through the lake beyond the common room window, the next natural light he saw was in the entrance hall. He had remembered the route back through the dungeon labyrinth with ease and was wondering what to do before breakfast. As he reached the foot of the grand staircase, he decided to begin exploring the castle.
Harry went through the first floor of the castle methodically, making sure he always knew how to quickly get back to the great hall for breakfast. His footsteps echoed through the corridors as he looked around, accompanied only by the creaking of the doors he opened and the chirping of the recently-awoken birds. The number of unused classrooms seemed unusual for a school, but Harry was certain that there was once a need for each of them. Otherwise, there would have been no point in building so many rooms. Besides, there were clear signs of prior use in each classroom.
Scattered around the corridors and galleries were other rooms, each as intriguing and bizarre as the next. One of the more delightful rooms was full of huge painted landscapes, with the sounds of rustling leaves and trickling water coming from some unseen place. Another room was a long chamber lined with suits of armour, although each was missing one piece. A whole section were each missing their left arms.
The last room Harry entered was full of clocks. More accurately, it was full of timepieces as it held a large collection of hourglasses, sundials, candle clocks and water clocks, as well as the vast array of more traditional clocks. There was a slender pillar in the centre of the room and wide windows around all four walls, even though the room was in the centre of the castle. Harry noticed the marks on the floor and realised that the room itself was a giant sundial. He was just walking past a row of potted plants, only one of which was currently blooming, when he realised that most of the clocks were reading the same time: half past seven. He figured it was probably time - haha - to make his way to the great hall for breakfast.
As he approached the grand staircase, Harry heard the faint echoes of chatter and footsteps. The castle was waking up and students were beginning to flow back to its heart after a good night's sleep. He was one of the first to sit down to breakfast, a selection of which appeared around him as he touched the table. He was happy to see a number of lighter options as he still felt somewhat full after the feast the night before. He just wasn't used to having so much food.
The cereal falling into Harry's bowl, making a tinkling sound as the individual pieces hit the porcelain, was the closest to cornflakes he could find. They seemed safe enough and he was going to brave it. Just before he'd poured milk into the bowl, he noticed Professor Snape striding into the hall, his cloak billowing out behind him as only he seemed to be able to do. Having learned long ago to not let his food out of his sight, Harry picked up his bowl and a small jug of milk, then meandered up to the staff table.
"Excuse me, Professor," he said, clutching his cereal bowl to his chest.
The Potions professor leant forwards and looked at Harry's small form over the table. "Potter," he said, sneering. "What brings you and your... cereal... up here?"
Harry looked into Snape's menacing face, doubting all his reasons for approaching the menacing man. His heartbeat thumped through his entire body and he felt as though he was twitching to its tune. Why was he here anyway? As he looked into Snape's cold, black eyes, unable to look away, a face floated to the surface of his mind. It was Tracey's face. He was here for her. He blinked.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we need your help. You see, in our quarters we have four boys and one girl all together. We were wondering whether you could help to give Tracey some privacy. Us boys are happy to keep leaving the room so she can get changed, but I think Tracey would feel a lot more comfortable with even just a curtain or something. Please could you help, sir?" Harry took a deep breath and reinforced his grip on his breakfast. Snape looked at him with disdain.
"Get back to your table," he dismissed.
It was a few seconds before Harry stopped staring slack-jawed at his head of house. He was eventually spurred into movement by the man's eyebrow quirking up and he almost ran back to the closest end of the Slytherin table, his back to the wall. He added milk to his bowl and spooned cereal into his mouth, mechanically and without enthusiasm. He didn't even notice the way the cereal never got too soggy, even towards the end of the bowl. He finished. He stared into the bowl. He waited.
When the timetable skittered across the table to rest next to the bowl, Harry immediately snatched it up and strode along the edge of the hall to the doors, ignoring the staring eyes from all five tables. In the entrance hall, he passed handfuls of students, panic in their eyes and hair sticking up on one side. Unlike them, he was not going to be late and, with a minute amount of guidance from his timetable, ended up sitting in the back corner of the Charms classroom, reading his textbook and hoping nobody would spot him when they eventually arrived to the class.
#
After the diminutive Professor Flitwick calmly took the register, it took only ten minutes of their first forays into magical education to distract Harry from his troubles. Charms was the perfect class with which to begin their magical education as it was the most general, all-round application of magic at its most basic level. The first years began learning about the crucial components of a well-crafted spell: the wand movement, the incantation and the knowledge of the spell's effects. It all seemed rather straightforward and the group were brimming with confidence throughout their first lesson.
Using a quill was more difficult than writing with a Muggle pen. Across the classroom, the Muggle-born students could be identified by the blotches of ink on both the parchment and the desk, as well as the scratchy, angular writing, although a number of other students were similarly inept at the use of a quill. During those moments where the class were expected to be quietly taking down notes, the clinking of quills against inkpots seemed to echo around the classroom.
Harry was glad that he didn't have to waste time refilling his quill with ink. He worked with two pieces of parchment on the desk, unlike anybody else he could see. The first parchment looked very much like everybody else's, albeit with his notes being in a different hand. His second parchment was for writing down questions about the subject material. After his experience in asking Professor Snape a question, he had realised that questions would be tolerated no more than they were at the Dursleys and, just like back in Muggle primary school, he decided that he would have to look into answering his own questions. He hoped that there would be a library where he could research to his heart's content.
Loose sheets of parchment were sure to be a nightmare and there seemed to be no way of keeping them organised for now. Thinking of libraries, Harry therefore came up with a nifty reference system for his questions and ideas to research. Of course, right at the top was a way to organise loose sheets of parchment. That problem was only going to get worse over the next seven years. Under that, using a notation system that linked to his Charms notes, were his questions for research.
C1.1: Knowledge of a spell's effects is important to being able to cast a spell. How did people do magic before the spells were invented?
#
Herbology served as a nice break from the influx of knowledge on their first day. The class was held in massive greenhouses on the sunnier side of the castle and run by a dumpy witch whose robes bore the earthy marks of working the land. If the robes of the other half of the class hadn't been lined with the tell-tale blue of their house, Harry could have guessed that Slytherin shared Herbology classes with Ravenclaw by the frustration displayed at taking part in a practical subject where their knowledge would be of more limited use.
The hands-on activities in their first Herbology lesson were varied and interesting. One part of the lesson was dedicated to identifying different fertilisers and soil mixes. The back end of the greenhouse was thick with the smell of the various dungs, from great sacks donated by different dragons species to an unassuming pot containing the silvery droppings of a unicorn, dried and ground to a fine powder. Another part of the lesson involved determining the identity of a number of different plant samples, using their textbooks.
Harry and Blaise were across the central wooden table from Daphne and Tracey. When it came to identifying a pastel blue plant with a heavenly smell and delicate flowers which gave out a tinkling sound when moved, his legs nearly buckled beneath him. It was a strange effect, like the feeling when an annoying noise suddenly stops. Harry felt like his vision expanded and everything became brighter and clearer. There was silence in his head. He was neither hot nor cold. He could breathe easier. Across the table, Tracey had a wide grin, but Harry could have sworn that Daphne's eyes softened slightly, as though losing some previously imperceptible tension. Within seconds, though, the world began intruding once more upon them and the lesson carried on as though nothing had happened.
"Now that you have had some practice in identifying plants using you textbooks," Professor Sprout said as she waved her own battered and muddy copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, "your challenge is to locate the plants, or parts of plants, on this list. Each pair should take this map of the greenhouse along with the list. The maps are enchanted to record your accuracy and speed. I like to challenge all new students with this in the first lesson. There will be points for the best pairs and, if you beat the current record, there may be a prize."
With the potential for a prize, there was a mad rush towards the stacks of lists and maps before the first years realised that the professor was distributing them by magic. The pieces of parchment floated towards them all, somehow realising how the students were paired up so that each pair only got one copy between them.
The cacophony of the students' chatter was reflected off the glass of the greenhouse, enveloping them in a blanket of sound as the class scattered to search for the bizarre-sounding list of plants. As Harry discovered a small shrivelfig plant nestled within a dense patch of knotgrass, he thought that Neville would be superb at this challenge. He gave a sad little smile as he marked the shrivelfig on his map.
Harry was quite glad to have been paired up with Blaise as they made a good team. Of course, the top spot was taken by a pair of Ravenclaws, Padma Patil and Lily Moon, but Team Potter-Zabini had scored well enough to earn five points for Slytherin. While the winners leapt up and high-fived each other, Harry and Blaise shared a proud nod.
"Very well done, all of you," congratulated Professor Sprout. "I've been very impressed by what I've seen today. Every pair found the first twelve plants on the list, which you'll become very familiar with this year. Unfortunately, there was one plant which nobody managed to locate in the greenhouse, which was the Chinese chomping cabbage." At this point, the bell rang, cutting the professor off. As it finished, she continued to give them homework. "For Thursday's lesson, not tomorrow's lesson, I'd like three inches of parchment on the identifying characteristics of every part of the Chinese chomping cabbage. Make sure you wash up and off you go to lunch!"
As the Slytherins and Ravenclaws shuffled off in the direction of the great hall, Harry picked up a gnarled stick from the bundle that were laying on the table around which they had gathered during the lesson. He had noticed the swirls in the wood grain, subtly unlike the straight-grained sticks surrounding it. On his way out, looking resolutely towards the door to the outside, Harry placed the stick onto the professor's workbench at the front of the greenhouse.
#
Harry took his time going into the toilets and washing his hands. Judging by the lack of students doing the same, he guessed that there was going to be a number of first years getting ill. He shook his head - who would want to eat with their hands covered in soil, let alone soil mixed with dragon dung. As he felt the familiar gnawing sensation in his stomach, he decided that his hands were clean enough for a quick bite to eat.
The great hall was heaving with the entire student body. Harry stood in the entrance hall, just by the doors, and the wall of noise blasting from that room was almost solid. He could feel it beating him around the head. Poking his head around the door didn't make it any better. The sight of all those people was enough encouragement to ignore his stomach. It was a small enough price to pay for peace. He therefore decided to go looking for the library, going up one floor from his recent exploration.
As he turned round to head for the grand staircase, he nearly bumped into Professor Sprout. She had remarkably clean hands, even though she'd just come from the greenhouses. At the same time, he noticed that she looked like she was about to say something. Smothering his curiosity with his desire to leave, he rushed past her, hearing the intake of breath in her preparation to speak. Not looking back, he was grateful that the Herbology professor had decided not to call him back and had, presumably, gone into the great hall for lunch.
It only took around five minutes of thorough exploration away from the grand staircase for Harry to discover the library on the first floor. He could almost tell that he had arrived before reaching the entrance because of the dusty smell of books. It was the smell of safety and security and peace. Harry loved libraries. What helped with the secure feeling of libraries was the ubiquitous stern librarian stationed close to the entrance, never afraid to defend the sanctity of their domain. The Hogwarts library was no exception, with the sternest-looking witch he had ever seen.
"Good afternoon," Harry said in a quiet, but clear, voice. "I'd like to use your library. Are there any rules I'll need to follow?" In Harry's experience, a kind soul always lurked beneath the gruff exterior of a librarian, especially once you got to know them.
The librarian looked at him over her desk and raised an appraising eyebrow. "You wish to use my books?" she replied. "What rules do you think you should follow?" Harry looked thoughtful for a second before answering.
"Well, I wouldn't ever do anything like writing in a book or treating it badly, not even with my own books. Bringing food and drink into the library would be dangerous for the books, so that's a no-go. Erm, some libraries have a time limit of when to bring books back and some books can't be borrowed at all, but they can be read in the library. Uh, you've got to be quiet and make sure you don't disturb anyone who might be working. Ummmm... I can't think of anything else."
"That's more than most first years can come up with and a few of our older students would do well to remember those basic rules. If you ever start behaving like those Weasley twins I'll have you kicked out of here for good, you hear?"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, nodding at the librarian who was frustrated by the mere thought of some of the older students.
"See to it that you don't," she said. "Books can be borrowed for one week each, up to a strict limit of five books per person. Longer borrowing or borrowing more books is a privilege that must be earned. Do not exceed the return time limit, otherwise you'll find that borrowing those books becomes more trouble than you bargained for. And finally, you can't enter or borrow anything from the restricted section until sixth year or if you have permission from one of the professors. Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said again. The librarian dismissed him by turning back to her work. She was certainly going to be a tough nut to crack, but he was confident that she would be just like the other librarians he'd met after they became better acquainted.
Slowly, though, he surveyed the library. To call it big would be an understatement. Harry had never seen so many books in one place and the amount of knowledge contained in this one room was breathtaking. If knowledge truly was power, then this was the motherload. Finding no guide to the layout of the library, he began to scout it out, determining what type of books were placed where. It was a difficult task, given his lack of knowledge about the different magical subjects and the complicated layout of the library, but he managed to work out the general location of Potions books and Herbology books, being the most obvious subjects to recognise. He'd just opened a book containing some odd symbols when the bell rang, meaning that he might end up late to Defence Against the Dark Arts.
#
"Secrets," Professor Quirrell began after he had taken the register. He stuttered slightly over the letter S, but it didn't take much away from the lesson. "The best form of defence is secrets. And I mean secrets in the plural. The more secrets you have, the less problematic it is for one of your secrets to be found out. For example, if I'd put a curse on the door to this room, it might hurt somebody, but only if it's a secret. If everyone knows there's a curse on the door, nobody's going to use it.
"This may be obvious to many of you, as Slytherins. Slytherin house has many secrets and, over the years, Slytherin students and former students have held more secrets than this entire castle. They also tend to be the best at finding out other people's secrets. If you can do that without them knowing, that's a secret you have over them. Let's see how many secrets you can think of to defend yourself. Write them anonymously on parchment and we'll mix them up and go through some of them."
Silence fell over the classroom, broken only by the shuffling of parchment and the scratching of quills as the first year Slytherins tried to think of as many defensive secrets as they could. After a couple of minutes, the Defence professor waved his wand and the pieces of parchment floated towards the front of the room. As they made their way to the front desk, each secret was separated from the others and the individual suggestions were shuffled into a pile.
The remainder of the lesson involved discussing the suggested defensive secrets and more. The idea of a spare wand was a good basic strategy to begin with, in case someone managed to relieve you of your primary weapon, but the discussion continued with even more effective ideas, such as hidden poisons, unseen allies and even making a building impossible to put on a map. Furrowing his brow in pain, Harry hastily scrawled down that the term for this was 'Unplottable'. Professor Quirrell smiled as he read the next suggestion in the pile.
"Being able to talk to snakes and have them help you in a fight. Interesting. This is a very rare ability called Parseltongue. Salazar Slytherin himself was a Parselmouth, which is why the symbol for the house of Slytherin is a snake. If someone in this room is a Parselmouth, I advise them to keep that a secret for as long as possible. It's a very useful skill, particularly within this castle, but very much misunderstood."
Professor Quirrell looked around the classroom as he said this, his eyes resting on each student in turn. As his gaze turned to Harry, the pain in the boy's scar intensified. Harry couldn't help but rest his head in his hand, looking down at his parchment. The pain was worse than he had felt at the welcoming feast and he lost track of the lesson for a few minutes. When he could focus once more, the professor was talking about some sort of charm to keep secrets.
It wasn't long before the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson and the first year Slytherins bundled out of the classroom and headed for the dungeons, chatting away about their first day of lessons. Harry, however, broke away from the pack and waited until they were out of sight before turning to a portrait on the wall and asking for directions. Apparently, the room he wanted was also on the first floor.
