Chapter 3! How do we like it?
When I woke up the next morning, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was not the main topic of conversation. Though I did get a few more stares as I passed some of the older students. I did, however, feel bad for poor Harry, who was. We hit the stairs to the Great Hall at about the same time, and I could hear the very unsubtle whispers follow us down.
"Don't listen to them, Harry. " I leaned over a nudged his arm. "I'm sure by lunch they'll have forgotten the whole thing."
He gave me a weak smile before heading to the Gryffindor table. Since my table was right next to his, I followed him. I was greeted with a loud, "Black!" as the twins spotted me.
"Blimey, your own house!" George began.
"I knew you were too good for us average wizards, but how did you do it?" Fred continued.
"What did the old hat say?"
I glanced back and forth between the two of them, unsure if Fred was serious.
"Well, it said I had all the house traits equally. And that the founders said if that were to happen, that witch or wizard would start a fifth house."
Lee piped up from next to the twins. "Does that mean there may be more new houses later?"
I shrugged. "I don't think so, but I don't know for sure. That's a question for Dumbledore and the hat."
We spoke for a few more minutes before I turned to eat my breakfast. As I was munching on a sticky bun, I was approached by the blond boy I'd spied before.
"So you weren't worthy of any of the real houses, so they made a house for the rejects? Isn't that the Gryffindors?" He spoke before I had a chance to swallow my food.
It was then that I realized where I knew him from.
"Is that any way to talk to your second cousin, Draco? Honestly, I thought you'd remember me from Christmas last year, and if not my name's a dead give away."
In an attempt to get to know a few of my relatives, Remus had allowed me to spend my Christmas with my cousin Andromeda. She took me to a Christmas party held at the Malfoy's. Andromeda did keep in touch with her sister Narcissa.
"Right, you came with Dear Auntie. You're the Meta-"
I cut him off. "Yes. That was me. Did you need something Dee, or will you be on your way?" I snarked.
He merely scoffed and walked away, mulling over the fact that a cousin, worse, a Black, wasn't deemed to be Slytherin. As if they needed a reminder of her Uncle's disgrace.
Professor Snape ended up being the one to hand me my timetable, along with a separate sheet of paper. "Don't think I'll take it easy on you just because the hat couldn't make up its mind..." He warned before turning with what could almost be called a flounce.
Finding my classes proved to be harder than I thought. I took Potions with the Gryffindors and Slytherins, and Herbology with Slytherin and Ravenclaw on Mondays. My Transfiguration, Flying, and Defense Against the Dark Arts were with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff on Tuesday and Thursday. Charms was with Gryffindor and Hufflepuff on Wednesday, and Astronomy I took alone on Friday.
The main problem wasn't that I had to find a different house every class period, but the castle itself. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases, some with trick steps, some that led somewhere different on Fridays. Then there were doorways that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place (which frankly I found disturbing), and door that were not really doors, merely walls pretending. And even the portraits were bad landmarks because they would wander off to visit neighboring portraits. The ghosts were known to be helpful, but woe be upon you if Peeves found you alone. He would pelt you with chalk dust, or pull rugs from beneath your feet.
Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Filch was an angry, bitter old man with a permanent sneer. He owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, who helped him patrol the halls, catching students in the act. Filch knew the secret passageways better than anyone save possibly the twins, and could pop up just as suddenly as the ghosts.
My first potions lesson turned out to be a bit disastrous, though not for me. It turns out Professor Snape hated poor Harry and took every excuse to mock him, even going so far as to take a point away for nothing. Eventually, he let it go and put us in pairs. He placed me with a Slytherin called Theodore Nott, and set us to work mixing a cure for boils. He swept around the room in his long black cloak, criticizing most of the students. I guess our potion was passable because we only received a grunt before he moved on.
He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs, when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville Longbottom, a Gryffindor, had somehow managed to melt his partner's cauldron into a twisted blob. Their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who got drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at the partner. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.
"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor. "
If I was angry about Potions, I completely forgot, as on my way up to lunch I was accosted by a flurry of orange.
"Hey, Kitty!"
"Hi, Kitty!"
It was the twins.
"Whatcha doing? Were you in Potions, or is your common room in the ickle basement?" Fred, I finally identified, asked.
"What's it to you where my common room is? You don't live there?" I asked roughly, though my eyes sparkled humorously. "Yes, I was in Potions."
"We thought so."
"You seem more the tower type. Are they moving you into the Divination tower?"
"No, George."
"Hey." George paused. "How come you can tell us apart after a week?"
I stopped walking to think. When did I start being able to tell? I shrugged.
"I dunno. I paid attention when you first introduced yourselves, and I notice a few differences. When you're both bouncing around like house elves on a sugar high it's harder."
They looked at each other and smirked.
"You're one of the first people who can tell." George began.
"Not even Mum knows if we switch jumpers." Fred continued.
"And that makes you special." They both spoke at once. I swear they had a hive mind or something.
"Well, see you around, Kitty." George started to turn.
I caught a hold of both of their sleeves. "Wait! Why do you call me Kitty?"
Fred grinned. "Why you're a bobcat of course. Mighty animal of the Black House."
And with that, they were gone.
I had my first flying lesson, and I thought it went well. Seeings how it was Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, I wasn't expecting much trouble. The flying instructor, Madame Hooch, had short grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk. She lined us up next to the brooms, which were kind of old, and the twigs stood out at odd angles.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"
"UP" everyone shouted. My broom jumped straight up into my hand, but as I glanced around I saw I was the only one. I received ten points for it, though I knew it wouldn't matter. With all four of the other houses comprised of many students, there was no way I would get my hourglass of amethyst full enough to compete. I couldn't try for the Quidditch Cup either, seeing as I couldn't possibly play seven spots on the team at once.
Once everyone had their broom in their hand, we were instructed how to push off, and how to land. Then she let us fly in lazy circles around the pitch. It was quite fun, and I determined to see if Professor McGonagall would let me practice with one of the other houses.
Luckily for me, she agreed but told me I would have to owl order a broom. She loaned me a catalog, and I chose to order a few Christmas presents at the same time. The next morning when the post arrived, two long thin packages arrived. Each carried by six large screech owls. All eyes were on the parcels as they were dropped in front of me and Harry. I caught his eye across the tables, and smiled, realizing that he must have a broom as well. A letter came with the broom, stating that I was to be at the Quidditch pitch at seven that night, for a lesson with the Gryffindor Captain and his new seeker.
At six-thirty, I placed down the book I had been reading on Animagi and grabbed my broom. Knowing it would take a bit to get down from the seventh floor to the pitch. I hadn't been to the stadium before, but it was about what I expected. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands, making the viewers high enough to see. At both ends of the field, there were three gold hoops on poles, fifty feet high. Harry was there, flying in and out of the goalposts, but he was called to the ground by a boy I assumed was the Gryffindor Captain. He was carrying a large crate under his arm.
"Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant. . . you really are a natural. Hello, Miss Black. I'm just going to teach you both the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week. "
I nodded as he opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.
"Right," said Wood. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers. "
"Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.
"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Wood. "The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"
"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Harry recited. "So - that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"
"Sort of." I wobbled my hand in the air.
"What's basketball?" said Wood curiously.
"Never mind," said Harry quickly.
"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper - I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring. "
"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry, who was determined to remember it all.
"Like a football goalie," I added as an aside to Harry. Remus made sure I was kept educated on Muggle things. I needed to write him soon.
"And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" Harry pointed at the three balls left inside the box.
"I'll show you now," said Wood. "Take this. "
He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.
"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Wood said. "These two are the Bludgers. "
He showed us two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. I couldn't help but notice that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.
"Stand back," Wood warned us. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.
At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air. It zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.
"See?" Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. "The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team - the Weasley twins are ours - it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So - think you've got all that?"
"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goalposts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Harry reeled off.
"Very good," said Wood.
"Er - have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping he sounded offhand.
"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you, Harry. Miss Black's gonna be trainin' all positions. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers-"
"- unless they crack my head open. " Harry sniped. I giggled but stayed focused.
"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers - I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves. "
That made me laugh out loud. Wood gave me an odd look but then moved on. He reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.
"This," said Wood, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages - I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep.
"Well, that's it, any questions?"
We both shook our heads. I had a decent grasp of how the game was played, but the refresher helped.
"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Wood, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you guys out with a few of these. "
He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, we were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for us to catch.
Harry didn't miss a single one, and I only missed one. Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and we couldn't carry on.
"That Quidditch Cup'll have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as we trudged back up to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, Harry. And he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons. "
I tilted my head. I didn't know that. It was then agreed I would join their practices, and while Wood was working with Harry, I would train with the Chasers and Beaters.
