THE POTIONS MASTER

HERMIONE

Hermione was the first to rise the next morning. Desperate though she was to head downstairs and plunge into her first magical lesson, she waited patiently in bed for the other girls to stir, and passed the time by perusing The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.

After what felt like a very long time, there was movement amongst the other four-posters. The girl called Lavender rubbed her eyes and sat up.

'You like reading, don't you,' she said to Hermione, yawning.

'I've got a lot to learn: I grew up without knowing any of this,' smiled Hermione.

'I'm sure you'll be fine, Hermione,' said Parvati, while brushing her long dark hair in front of a mirror. 'I haven't even looked at my books. You'll be one of the best in the class, I expect.'

'Oh, I doubt it,' lied Hermione, still smiling; modesty was always something she struggled with.

Lavender then began gushing over Parvati's plaits, at which point it became difficult for Hermione to join in with the conversation. The other two girls (Fay, and a redhead whose name escaped Hermione) departed without a word, and Hermione was soon bored by Lavender and Parvati: they were clearly the type of girls who cared more about what was in their hair than what was in their brains. Hermione had seen enough of such girls at her old school. She had rather hoped witches wouldn't be as dull as Muggles.

Having read Hogwarts: A History during the summer holidays, Hermione was already aware of the sheer size of the castle, but that didn't mean she knew her way around it – but she was so keen to get to her classes that she asked the older students for directions, seeking out Prefects when she could. Percy Weasley was very sensible and helpful, and was one of the select few Gryffindors who didn't race around the castle making as much noise as possible. Thus, Hermione was always first to arrive at class, and would sit in the front row, where she couldn't be distracted.

Parvati had been right. Hermione was, by a long way, the smartest in their class. She was even smarter than Harry Potter, who wasn't as impressive as she had expected. Hermione was the only pupil to turn her matchstick into a needle in Transfiguration; she also knew every answer to three complicated questions in their Potions class, but, for the first time in her life, the teacher was not impressed by her knowledge.

The only lesson in which she knew she would struggle was flying. Over breakfast the following Thursday, nerves had propelled her to bombard her fellow Gryffindors with tips she had read in Quidditch Through the Ages, unaware that Neville alone was listening to her.

She tried to recite these tips to herself as they crossed the sunny lawns outside with the Slytherins. However, her fear of falling had swept everything else from her mind, and she was back to where she started.

Her broomstick seemed to sense her fear, for it was as reluctant to leave the ground as she was. She was hugely relieved when a distraction arose in the form of Neville taking off before everyone else, before he zoomed away, out of control, and finally tumbled back to earth. Madam Hooch examined the damage, before carrying Neville off to the hospital wing.

'Did you see his face, the great lump?' laughed Draco Malfoy, to whom Hermione and the other Gryffindors had taken an instant dislike. He then picked up Neville's Remembrall from the grass, which must have fallen from Neville's pocket.

'Give that here, Malfoy.'

Harry had stepped forward, his expression defiant.

Malfoy smirked.

'I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree?'

'Give it here!'

Next thing, Malfoy had taken off in the air, and Harry snatched his own broom.

'No!' Hermione shouted, grabbing Harry's arm. 'Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all in trouble.'

It was no good. Harry mounted and left the ground, and Hermione could only shake her head in disbelief. How could someone be so stupid?

'He's going to get himself killed,' said Hermione shrilly, but everyone was too busy screaming or cheering to listen. Even more annoying was that Harry was actually a good flier. When Malfoy launched the Remembrall and Harry dived after it, Hermione had to refrain from clapping with everyone else.

'HARRY POTTER!'

It was Professor McGonagall, looking furious. Parvati and Ron began to protest, but McGonagall whisked Harry away immediately, much to Malfoy's satisfaction.

'Oh dear, oh dear,' he said, smirking once more. 'I think that might be the last we see of the famous Potter. All because of Longbottom and his stupid toy.'

'That was your fault, you little –' began Ron angrily; but Crabbe and Goyle stepped in front of Malfoy, cracking their knuckles menacingly, and Ron seemed to think better of it.

Without a teacher, the Gryffindors and Slytherins set off back to the castle separately. Hermione could hear Malfoy's distant laughter all the way to the Entrance Hall.

'Honestly, if we'd all listened to Madam Hooch, none of this would have happened,' said Hermione bossily. 'I told Harry not to follow Malfoy, and now he's going to be expelled –'

'He won't get expelled for that,' Ron snapped at her. 'You should stay out of this, you'll only make it worse. I expect you were glad when McGonagall showed up, weren't you?'

'Yes, I was! How else will we learn not to break the rules?'

Ron shook his head in disgust, and Hermione turned away with her nose in the air. Somehow, she didn't think this would be the last disagreement she would have with Ron Weasley.