It didn't take Reva long to figure out that Hermione Granger was a genius.
The girl was absolutely barking mad! She excelled in every course, from Herbology to Transfiguration to even dull, awful History of Magic. She got excited over homework, for Merlin's sake! Revati had never been so impressed, or intimidated, by someone's intellect in her whole life.
For her part, Reva did well in classes (at least, so far as the first week showed). Though Hermione had consistently been the first to perform any piece of magic in all their classes, Reva normally managed to get the hang of it towards the end of the period. She was on time with her homework and did the readings she was supposed to, though she was immensely grateful for Hermione's tendency to discuss it afterwards because she didn't quite understand what was happening.
The rest of the first years seemed to leave the two of them alone, which was disheartening. She didn't know what either of them had done to Lavender or Parvati, but neither of their dorm mates reached out, though they were perfectly civil and kind when addressed. Dean and Seamus were always talking about one sport or another, and never tried to include the girls in conversation. Harry and Ron, of course, didn't like them and so didn't make any effort with them.
In fact, the only friend in their house and year the two girls could count was Neville Longbottom, who, despite his clumsiness and bad luck, was universally liked by the Gryffindors for his kindness and good nature.
Reva and Hermione had gone to the Owlery during lunch on their first day of classes to borrow a pair of school owls and send their letters home. Hermione said her parents had left a window open in their bedroom so the owl could come in and out; Reva found that very sweet, and thought to herself that Mr. and Mrs. Granger would get on well with her mum.
On Wednesday morning, Reva caught sight of her mum's (very) old owl. It circled overhead before dropping a letter and a package on Reva's lap, preening as she ran her fingers gently over the bird's feathers.
"I didn't know you had an owl!" Hermione said.
"Elvie's my mum's," Reva said easily. "We can't really afford another one, so my mum said I should use the school owls and she'd send Elvie if she could."
She opened the letter and read quickly to herself.
Dear Revati,
I'm so glad you're already having a wonderful time at school! I was sure you'd be in Ravenclaw, but it looks like you have some of that old lion pride in you still—I couldn't be happier for you. Work is going on the same as usual. I am still looking for another job, and it would seem that there's a farm looking for a dragonologist to advise them over in Sorcerer's Circle.
I'm so pleased you've made such a good friend already! Hermione, from your letter, seems like a lovely girl. Please tell her that she's welcome to visit our home over any break she likes, and if she or her parents ever need anything from the wizarding world, they can always write to me.
I can't wait to hear about your favorite classes and things to do at school!
I am so proud of you, always.
-Mum
P.S.: I baked you and your friends some Cauldron Cakes, and your uncle insisted on sending you chocolates when he came over on Sunday. Enjoy them!
With a grin, Reva stuffed the small package into her bag and winked at Hermione as she looked over questioningly. "My mum sent sweets," she said in explanation. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Neville and Dean trying to mask longing looks as they not-so-subtly listened in on the girls' conversation. With a tiny smile, she pretended she hadn't noticed and instead said to Hermione, "I'm under instructions to share, so I suppose us Gryffindor first years will be splitting some lovely homemade Cauldron Cakes."
Hermione's eyes brightened with curiosity and delight. "Ooh, that sounds lovely!" She said. "Cauldron Cakes come from Pakistan, don't they?"
"Yeah, that's where they're produced, I think," Reva said, frowning in thought. "Although I imagine before partition they were made all across British India by the Wizarding Raj, not just in the area that's now Pakistan. This one's an old family recipe, Mum's grandfather used to make them." She shook her head. "Either way, I'm glad Pakistani wizards are finally getting paid a fair rate for them. It used to be that the British owned every company, and a great big British corporation in Pakistan was hardly likely to care about their workers."
"But that's awful!" Hermione cried.
"Yeah, well. Colonization wasn't just a Muggle thing," Revati said darkly. "And neither is inequality." Her eyes brightened. "Good news is that now, Qizilbash is the world's biggest producer of Cauldron Cakes, and they're entirely Pakistani owned."
That night, Revati sat around with the other first years in front of the fire, and they passed around the box of homemade Cauldron Cakes.
"These are the best Cauldron Cakes I've had," said Seamus, biting in.
"Thank you," smiled Reva.
Lavender and Parvati struck up a conversation with Dean, Neville, and Seamus, and the other four Gryffindors were left to make conversation.
Reva met Harry's eyes, and she saw her own uncertainty reflected there. The two of them had barely talked, but they'd somehow reached an understanding that while they had no problem with each other, their respective best friends couldn't see eye to eye on anything; and so, out of loyalty, Harry and Reva weren't to speak, either.
Ron, for all his rudeness to Hermione, didn't seem to have a huge problem with Reva (except that she was best friends with the other girl). Reva didn't like him very much because she didn't like anyone who was mean to her friends, but she was polite, if cold, to him whenever he spoke to her. That in itself was a rare occurrence, because Ron seemed so wary of Hermione's tendency to butt into conversations that he was loath to interact with her best friend if she was around.
It seemed, however, that Ron's passion for good food outweighed his apparent trepidation, because with his mouth full of cake, he said, "'Ese are so goofh," blinking appreciatively at Reva.
Revati started to say thanks, but she was beaten to the punch by Hermione, who, for all of her lovable qualities, did not know when to keep her mouth shut.
"Honestly, Ron, it's basic manners to close your mouth when you chew," she said in disgust. "Nobody wants to see your half-eaten cake."
Ron burned a bright red, and swallowed his food roughly before saying, "It's manners to mind your own business, too!"
As the two bickered, Reva caught Harry's eye and gave him a quick smile with the roll of her eyes. Time to step in.
"Er, Hermione, it's a bit late and I still need to finish the Charms homework," Revati cut in. "I was wondering if you could help me talk through the wand motion…"
"Oh," said Hermione, interest immediately piqued at the thought of homework. "Yes, of course!" She chattered on about the wand patterns for various basic Charms, and though Revati nodded and 'ah'd at the right places, she glanced over at Ron sharply as he and Harry got up to leave. He, at least, had the decency to look a bit sheepish, and gave her a quick nod as they left the common room.
Friday of the first week was the Gryffindor first years' first lesson in Potions, and they had a double period to share with the Slytherins. Hermione and Revati made it down to the Great Hall, only getting lost twice, and ate a quick breakfast before they followed their classmates to the dungeons.
Professor Snape was a tall, unpleasant looking man with sallow skin and greasy black hair. He had a demeanor that demanded attention and a voice that suggested danger. He began the class by calling roll. He stopped briefly before Reva's name, but she'd expected that. All of her teachers so far had struggled with the Indian name, a look of quick confusion falling over their faces. The ones who'd had her mum knew how to say her last name, but Professor Snape didn't look old enough to have taught Anjali Kumar.
"Kumar, Revati," he said finally.
"Present," said Revati. "But, er, it's pronounced 'Ray-va-thee.'"
Professor Snape ignored her, but if the snarl curling his lip was any indication, he didn't appreciate her interjection. That was too bad, Revati thought to herself. She wasn't going to let anyone mispronounce her name.
It seemed to be smooth sailing from there, even with Parvati Patil's name. Professor Snape didn't mess her name up, probably because the last part of her name was the same as Reva's, and he'd already received a lesson in how to pronounce brown names of that sort.
But Reva had no sooner thought that, when Professor Snape reached the next name.
"Ah, yes," he said. "Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity."
Revati exchanged a perplexed look with Hermione at the obvious disdain in the man's voice.
"Thomas, Dean." He moved on.
"Present."
"Weasley, Ronald."
"Present."
"Zabini, Blaise."
"Present."
With roll call officially over, Professor Snape launched into an utterly riveting, phenomenally descriptive, and absolutely terrifying monologue on the art of potion's making.
"Bit dramatic, isn't he?" Whispered Reva to Hermione. The other girl just hushed her, paying rapt attention to the scowling Professor in his billowing black robes.
"Potter!" The Potion's master snapped, making them all jump. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Reva's eyes widened. Was this some sort of test? Would they all have to answer such questions? Next to her, Hermione's hand shot up in the air. Of course she knew the answer.
"I don't know, sir." Said Harry, sounding taken aback.
Professor Snape made a tutting noise, clicking his tongue. "Clearly fame isn't everything."
What? Anger began simmering in the pit of Reva's stomach. Didn't he know what Harry was famous for? As if he needed another reminder of his parents' death.
"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"
Again, Hermione's hand was in the air, but it was clear that Harry had no clue.
"I don't know, sir."
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming to school, eh, Potter?"
Reva clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms. This was incredibly unprofessional, not to mention pointed and targeted at a specific first year who'd done nothing wrong except be well-known.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Next to her, Hermione stood up, and admittedly, even Reva knew the answer to this one. She was too furious, however, to make any indication that she had, and so sat quietly at her seat, biting her tongue.
"I don't know." Harry said, and then— "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"
Reva laughed at that, and she wasn't the only one. She turned her head and gave Harry a quick grin, which he noticed.
Snape, of course, didn't like that. "Sit down!" He snarled at Hermione. The girl, who'd likely never been yelled at by a teacher in her life, obeyed immediately, looking horrified to have gotten on a professor's bad side.
Professor Snape answered his own questions, speaking in a way clearly designed to make Harry feel stupid. What a terrible excuse for an educator. Reva felt her jaw clench as insult was added to injury— "And a point from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter."
As the Potions lesson continued, it became increasingly clear that Professor Snape hated the Gryffindors, especially Harry. Hermione was clearly the best in the class, with a near perfect Cure for Boils Revati had helped with, but Professor Snape ignored it (and them) completely, moving towards Malfoy and remarking on his instead. Even from across the classroom, Reva could tell the Slytherin boy's was too watery to be effective.
It all came to a head, however, when poor Neville Longbottom cried out. Revati turned back to see with horror that he'd not only messed up the potion, but had spilled it all over himself. To make matters worse, he'd accidentally melted Seamus Finnegan's cauldron and the badly made potion was spreading across the floor.
It wasn't as if Revati had expected Professor Snape to become nurturing and kind, all of a sudden, but certainly even he could have been nicer than to bark, "Idiot boy!" as he easily Vanished the spilled potion. That, Reva thought with a new burst of anger, was a cruel thing to say to a boy in pain from a potions accident his very first class. She was so enraged that she missed Snape snarling for Seamus to take Neville to the Hospital Wing (which she later thought he should have done himself, given that Seamus was still in his first week of classes and didn't know where the Hospital Wing was). She did, however, overhear Snape blaming Harry for the entire thing, insinuating that the boy had purposefully watched and let Neville ruin his and Seamus' potion in order to make himself look better.
Oh, she hated this man.
Did he treat all the students like this? How many children were subject to his constant ridicule and abuse? How had nobody done anything about it? Why hadn't anyone else on the staff, like McGonagall or Dumbledore, had a word with him about his behavior?
When class ended just under an hour later, Revati was still seething.
"I mean, the nerve of him, to scream at Neville like that when he'd just gotten hurt!" She ranted to Hermione as the two of them walked to the Great Hall. "And did you see the way he treated Harry? As if he'd asked to be famous. That wasn't just disrespectful to Harry, but to his whole family who died for him, and to everyone who'd suffered because of You-Know-Who who were saved by him! And the way he yelled at you, for knowing the answers to his questions, that was absolutely horrendous!"
Hermione had also found it all unfair, but she didn't think it was as dire as Revati felt.
"He is a Professor, though," Hermione offered hesitantly as they took another staircase up. "He was a little… short-tempered, but he can't be a bad person, can he? Or else he would have been fired."
(This was the thing Revati Kumar would soon come to realize about Hermione Granger: she respected and trusted authority implicitly. And this was the thing that set Revati Kumar fundamentally apart from her best friend: she did not).
Professor Snape very clearly did not care about his students. He certainly did not treat them as if they were worthy of basic dignity and respect. Someone needed to teach him a lesson, to show him that he couldn't continue to treat his students as though they were scum at the bottom of his cauldron. Someone needed to do something about his despicable, abusive behavior.
And that was when Revati stopped in her tracks, heart beating fast with anticipation. "Hermione," she breathed, "I've just had the most wonderful idea."
"What is it?" Her friend asked.
Revati set her jaw and lifted her chin up defiantly. "Let's start a rebellion."
(i don't own the scene with snape in the classroom, obviously).
(or the rest of the harry potter stuff, again obviously).
hope you enjoyed! hope you're staying safe!
as always, a huge, huge thank you to everyone continuing to work in essential fields.
-alidfi