Albus' scratchy sleep-deprived eyes and aching leg drove him mad the next morning during the first lesson of the day, Charms, with the Slytherins. Professor Ishanvi, a young woman with sharp green eyes that seemed to gleam in the early morning sunshine, had asked them to tackle the critical theory in their set textbooks whilst she asked them a barrage of questions.
"What are the five major wand movements? What classifications do we have to separate different types of charms? What are the differences between charms and Transfiguration spells?" Her accent spoke of polished years abroad, perhaps studying in India's prestigious schools of magic before traipsing across entire continents to understand what made magic magic. Between him and Rose, they seemed to fly through her increasingly difficult questions, as the rest of the class stared blankly, Sky and Kavyansh, amongst a few Slytherins bravely raising their hands at points.
His head throbbed as he recalled the timetables they'd been given at breakfast by Professor Ellis. His heart had risen when he'd discovered that his Monday mornings would be taken up by Charms, as well as a small Potions class that'd been squeezed in before lunch but sank at the hour and a half long compulsory flying lessons after lunch, the rest of the afternoon devoted to Wizarding Literature and Transfiguration, before finishing at half-past three. The Ravenclaws had groaned at the sight of Professor Dupont's name, whilst the Hufflepuffs had made apprehensive faces at each other from across their plates of sausages and slices of toast. The news, however, had been well-received by their Gryffindor and Slytherin counterparts, with Scorps punching the air and cheering. There were some outliers, as Orville grinned, his hair unusually unkempt and his tie askew.
Three-quarters of an hour into the lesson saw Ishanvi grasp a piece of chalk. Almost instantly, the first-years sat up, intrigued. Surely, they must be able to focus on something practical now? "As I'm satisfied that we've covered some of the basics on theory, I am going to ask you to break off into pairs in order to learn the Lu-mos charm," she said, slowly emphasising the pronunciation of the spell.
She turned to face the blackboard and drew a simple knot, which Albus recognised as the first of the five major movements. "Here, you use your wands to outline this shape, which should provide light." She drew the curtains so that the room was dark. "Right, partners, please."
The room began to fill with noise. As Rose grappled with her wand, her stance perfect and poised, she drew out her vowels. "Lum-os." One of her fellow Slytherins, Owen, according to a disgruntled classmate, leant over and straightened her wand arm before she repeated the incantation, her voice growing louder with every iteration she tried. "Lum-bloody-os. Lum-os. LUM-os." Rose bit her lip, frustrated. "Lum-OS!"
"I think it's lu-mos," Albus said quietly, flicking his wand upwards in a small circular motion. His wand tip glimmered softly, eliciting a "Well done!" from Professor Ishanvi, who offered a few more tips on how to achieve a stronger light. He blended the syllables together. "Lumos." It seemed to work, earning him five house points.
Rose scowled at him from behind the professor. "Lum-os!" She began thumping her wand against the desk in annoyance. "LUM-OS!" A jagged bolt of lightning fled the end of her wand, silencing the class. It streaked across the classroom, ricocheting off solid objects, occasionally scorching wooden items, such as Kavyansh's copy of the textbook. He yelped and patted it.
The professor directed her wand at it, aiming what Albus presumed to be a non-verbal spell, as it vanished from its collision course with her desk. She turned to glower at Rose, panting. "That-" she pointed her wand at the huge burn mark in the centre of the blackboard. "-is why we listen, observe and take notes. I think, for now, the majority of us have mastered the Wand-Lighting Spell, so, therefore, we shall turn our attention to its counter-charm, Wand-Extinguishing, or Nox." She muttered something under her breath and the mark shrunk, returning the blackboard to its previously unharmed state, before drawing two combined lines in a simplified wave shape. Predictably, the short line was the second of the major wand movements. "We've only got five minutes left, so I'd like you to practice Lumos and Nox for next lesson."
Again, Albus partnered up with his cousin, whom he allowed to take the lead for the second time. She quickly found her feet and after lighting her wand, managed to extinguish it by shouting "Nox!"
Some of their classmates sniggered, one girl mockingly joking "I'll Nox you in a minute!"
Rose opened her mouth to fire a witty retort of some kind back but the bell rang, cutting her off. Some of the Slytherins stuck their tongue out as they filed out of the classroom, smirking at having obviously riled her up.
"That was unbelievably rude," a girl Albus had only seen at the Welcome Feast - the first girl to be Sorted into Ravenclaw - Christine, said sympathetically. "Do you fancy practising in the library at lunch? I couldn't get the hang of Nox..." Hers and Rose's voices trailed away as they set off for their lesson, leaving Orville (still as messy as he'd been that morning at breakfast), Sky, Kavyansh and Albus to jog to Potions in the dungeons. Thankfully, it was just the Ravenclaws that'd arrived outside Professor Ellis' empty classroom. Albus looked down the row of excited faces and realised he only knew the names of a handful of them.
"Bloody hell, sir's late," Orville remarked. "We're definitely in here, aren't we?" He pulled his timetable out and scrutinised it. "Yep."
Christine peered through the door. "Do you reckon he knows we're here? Should I knock? Or open it, if it's unlocked?"
"It generally would be pleasant of you to, Miss Adelisa," Professor Ellis said, a hot mug of tea in one hand and an empty cauldron in the other. "My apologies for being late, Professor Mullard had me tied up in a staff meeting. Oh, crikey," he marched into the classroom, immediately pointing his wand at the empty fireplaces. "Well, please make yourselves comfortable. Again, I do apologise but you appear to be a sensible lot." He set the cauldron down in front of his desk and looked at his first-years. From what Albus remembered of him in Diagon Alley less than a month ago, he'd hardly changed.
"Where do we start?" he asked the class. "I'm sure your parents have told you horror stories about this subject but I hope to persuade you otherwise. Now, this half-hour session on Monday mornings, I've asked the Headmistress to set aside for theory, but rest assured, we will begin on making a cure for boils tomorrow afternoon, which will be one of the many potions mentioned in your end of year exams. These will also be the lessons where I expect you to read up on your topics and prepare an essay beforehand so we can discuss them and clear up any misunderstandings. I want it to be a fast-paced class, but I also want everyone to be onboard." He took a sip of his tea to allow the academic demands to sink in.
"The best thing about teaching first-years is that none of you have any preconceived assumptions about what should and shouldn't go in a potion, so your curiosity, I hope, is boundless." The professor put his hands together and smiled kindly at the first-years. "Do any of you have any questions you'd like to ask?"
At least half of the class put their hands up straight away. They ranged from "How long do you want the essays to be, sir?" to "Are we allowed to experiment with our potions?"
Orville took the opportunity to mutter to Albus and Orville. "A two-page essay and readings?! Is he having a laugh? Bloody organ-grinder!" Albus snorted.
"We have him as our Deputy Head of House. Better not wing it," Kavyansh offered. "Is he thinking about exams already? We've only just got here. Absolute nutter."
Thankfully, the bell rang, indicating that their short half-hour with their Potions Master was up. "I want that essay tomorrow! Describe and explain the ingredients, methodology, process and effects of a boils cure. At least I'll know you've read up on what vials to use to keep them safe!" The class groaned, watching their free hours dissipate like smoke.
Albus' stomach turned as he remembered that flying lessons were to begin after lunch. An hour and a half of savage torture. Sky gave him a worried look as they headed off to the Great Hall, Albus pulling parchment and Magical Drafts & Potions: Seventh Edition out of his bag. He didn't feel well enough to eat - what if his lunch ended up all over the grass outside? He was keen to not attract any negative attention from his teachers, particularly the Head of Ravenclaw. Flipping the page open to page forty-one, he began to list the ingredients needed as Orville chatted to the Ravenclaw girls.
"What did you make of that, Chris?" he wondered, as Albus reached the bottom of the list, scribbling 'two porcupine quills', ignoring the deep churning that was festering in his belly. His lightheadedness compounded the problem.
"It sounds like he wants us to go through a potion a week," she meekly said, grabbing her own copy of the textbook and flipping it over to the contents page, "and we have thirty potions that could come up in our exam-"
"Don't tell me you've memorised the bloody setlists already?" Orville said disparagingly. "We've been here for five minutes! I thought we were curious, not geeks!"
Kavyansh shook his head. "Maybe some of us are curious about Potions," he remarked. "Instead of Quidditch." Albus had barely reached the summary of the methodology, which included a somewhat complicated section on stirring clockwise and anticlockwise (with antiquated footnotes to read through) but the mention of Quidditch made him feel dizzy. He had to face those heights again, so soon, and with the Hufflepuffs present, it was going to be humiliating if he tripped up again. He'd heard the sniggers from James and the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams in the corridor.
"Well, there's nowt wrong with Quidditch," Sky muttered, poking at his sandwich. "But it gets wearing, like how can you talk about it so much and not get bored?"
Two of the girls sat alongside Christine made shocked faces. "How can you not love it though?" they demanded, as their corner of the Ravenclaw table descended into bickering over the game. Albus tried to concentrate, biting his quill to try and calm his burgeoning nerves. What if it all went wrong again, as the match had? Could he forge a sick note in time? What if Professor Dupont made them all fly in front of each other? Oh God, what if everyone else was much better than him?
His hands shook as he made it to the conclusion of the effects of the potion, halfway down the second scrap of parchment, before his belly threatened to heave. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he shoved the essay into the page he was on and walked quickly to the boys' toilets, slamming the door after him. Oh God, oh God, oh God, he repeated to himself in his head. What if he fell off the broomstick again?
The boys' toilet door opened. "Albus?" Sky called. "You - er, disappeared."
Albus sat on the toilet seat, his heart in his mouth, too proud to call out.
Footsteps skittered nervously across the floor. He guessed some of the nerves were mutual. "You said you were scared of heights yesterday."
Again, he didn't reply.
"I get it, mate. Not being the phobia of heights thing, I'm alright with that. I bloody hate flying," Sky said. "The broom's uncomfortable to sit on, for one thing. Where do you even put-" he coughed. "-for a start? And like, why do we need to learn to fly? It's not like any of us going to be international superstars anytime soon, is it?" He laughed quietly to himself. "I hope it is you in there otherwise I've followed some poor boy in here."
Albus swung the door open, his shoulders taut. "Was the match really that bad?"
Sky bit his lip. "It wasn't just you who fell off, mate. Rose and Orville must've been born on brooms, the way some of them were flying at each other. And the others? Well. It was a bit of a surprise Gryffindor won. It was just Rose who was chucking the Quaffle in the goalposts, to be honest. No one really kept score."
"I can't do this lesson, I - I just can't."
"Look. Go and sit in the common room, me and Kav'll cover for you. As long as we get to copy your boils cure essay, alright?" he grinned playfully. "Seriously though, it's not worth it for all the worry it's causing you. We'll just say you're ill or something."
He put his face in his hands and took a deep breath. "Thanks, Sky. I guess I'll see you in Lit and Transfiguration later, then?" The boy nodded so Albus made his way to his dormitory Ravenclaw Tower and sat down on his bed. Curiously, he felt something under his pillow. The letter! He'd been too consumed by dinner with McGonagall and his first day of lessons to remember it, so he tore it open and read earnestly.
Morning Albs, it was in Lily's loopy handwriting. She was the only person who could get away with calling him that pet-name.
Good job on getting Ravenclaw - you were too brainy for Slytherin anyway! James has no idea what's hit him, between you and Rose. Don't stress too much over the match. Let Rose beat you then crush her later on in the year. I bet you my last three Knuts she's still talking about those fouls... Haha, you owe me now! Please introduce me to Sky and Scorps when you can, they sound more normal than Mum and Dad (they've been arguing again). Uncle George came around to say that Lee's radio station's in the process of getting its licence so we can listen to all the Hogwarts matches when they start.
What's the castle like? Is the food as good as Uncle Ron says it is? Grandma smacked him around the ears when he complained about her cooking last night! Has James played any pranks on you yet? Are the teachers nice? Is Ravenclaw a nice house to be in?
Lots of love (please reply soon!),
Lily x
He sighed with relief at the feeling of normalcy the letter brought. He missed his younger sister, regardless of how annoying she'd been over the summer. Had their parents really been arguing again? His gut feeling told him it was probably about him going off to Hogwarts, although he hoped otherwise. With a tear rolling down his cheek, he began to write his reply.