Chapter 7

The Potions Master

Whispers followed Elizabeth from the moment she left the dormitory the next day. Some of the whispers contained Harry; but most were, to her surprise, concerning another matter. They hadn't been there more than a few days when her, Fred and George had become known as the Weasley triplets. Apparently Lee Jordan had referred to them as such during their heart-wrenching rendition of the school song. It had stuck.

Elizabeth couldn't let herself get too distracted by the whisperers though, as finding her way around the vast castle was not as easy as it had seemed.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some with a vanishing step half way up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors which wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The portraits would pop off and visit each other every now and again, the staircases changed where they led to without warning and it seemed even the suits of armour would go for a wander, once in a while.

Elizabeth found it easier than most. There was always a friendly face willing to lend a helping hand. Cedric Diggory, a friend of the twins, whose father also worked with Arthur at the Ministry, had saved her from at least one trick stair already. And Peeves seemed to be a surprising helping hand; stopping her from accidentally ending up in the forbidden, third-floor corridor and leading her back to the Great Hall. Elizabeth was under the impression that the twins had sent them both on 'Elizabeth Watch'.

She was rather glad they did, however, as Peeves wasn't as charming to any other lost students. More than once she had seen him dropping waste paper baskets on people's heads, pulling rugs from under their feet and pelting them with chalk. One time she had even seen him sneak up behind Neville, invisible, grab his nose and yell "GOT YOUR CONK!" only to have the young boy run of screaming. Yes, she was most certainly glad he was on her side.

Although the worst person to meet when lost was, Hogwarts' caretaker, Argus Filch. No matter where you were or what you were doing, he would never believe you were lost. Always determined that you were up to something, something which would lead to him having to clean up the mess. And he couldn't have that.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs Norris, a scrawny, dust-coloured creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors for him and you could always be sure that if Mrs Norris was there, Filch wasn't far behind.

Once you managed to find your classes, of course, there was the magic. Some things Elizabeth already knew she would enjoy, and even be good at. However, some she did not. It turned out there was a lot more to the magic she saw Mrs Weasley do at the Burrow, than waving a wand and saying a few funny words.

The first years had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday, at midnight, and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy, little witch called Professor Sprout. Here they learned to take care of all kinds of strange, magical and exotic plants and fungi, and discover what they were used for. Elizabeth enjoyed this class immensely, her love for potions meaning she already had a grounding in the subject, and she couldn't wait to learn more.

There was only one lesson, so far, in which Elizabeth found herself trying not to fall asleep; and contrary to expectation, it was not the one that took place at midnight. History of Magic was taught by Professor Binns and was the only classes given by a ghost. Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff-room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. It wasn't that the subject was boring, quite the opposite in fact, Elizabeth found the exploits of Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball quite fascinating, if not at some points a little disturbing. No, the drone of Binns voice could send to sleep the most hyperactive of children, whilst they were on a sugar high.

Professor Flitwick, the charms teacher, was, quite befittingly, a charming little wizard, who had to stand upon a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of the first lesson he took register, and upon reaching Harry's name gave an excited, little squeak and toppled out sight.

Then there was Professor McGonagall, and Elizabeth's first opinion of her seemed to be sound. Strict and clever, she gave them all a talking-to the moment they sat down. A talking-to which was proof of the protective instinct Elizabeth had picked up on during their first evening. McGonagall just wanted them to be safe, and know what they were up against.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn in your time at Hogwarts," she had said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back. They were all impressed and couldn't wait to get started. Elizabeth couldn't help but giggle; McGonagall knew exactly how to command their attention.

After making a lot of complicated notes, each member of McGonagall's class was given a matchstick to turn into a needle. They all came to the conclusion that they weren't going to be turning furniture into farmyard animals any time soon. By the end of the lesson the only person who had made any difference to their match, was Hermione Granger. McGonagall held it up showing the class how the tip had gone all pointy and silver. This girl was starting to get Elizabeth, more than a little bit, miffed.

The class a lot of people had been looking forward to the most was Defence against the Dark Arts. But to the majority's disappointment, Professor Quirrell turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania, and was afraid would be coming back to get him. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie. Elizabeth had heard and seen many things growing up in the wizarding world, but zombies was pushing it a bit far, even for her.

Her distrust was clarified even further when Seamus Finnigan's curiosity once again got the better of him, and he asked how Quirrell had fought off the zombie. Quirrell went pink and his usual, constant stutter became worse, he suddenly began talking about the weather. Elizabeth thought that Fred and George was much more accurate in terms of the use of Quirrell's turban; they were sure that it too was full of garlic, so that Quirrell was protected from his dreaded vampire wherever he went.

Friday morning Elizabeth was sat having breakfast when Harry and Ron, who for the first time had managed to find their way to the Great Hall, in time for the first meal of the day, joined her.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked them as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double potions with the Slytherins," said Ron.

"Finally," Elizabeth remarked, and Harry turned to look at her as though she had just grown an extra three heads. It seemed he had not been looking forward to spending a delightful two hours in a dark, humid potions dungeon, with a group of Slytherins. Elizabeth tried to swallow her mouthful of scrambled egg to explain, but Ron beat her to it.

"She's a potions nerd," he said. "I don't know why. I imagine the twins are right though, she'll probably hate it by the end of the year."

"And why is that?" she interrupted indignantly, having completely given up on not talking with her mouth full.

"It's taught by Snape isn't it? Head of Slytherin," Ron added for Harry's benefit. "They say he always favours them and come on Fred says his nickname is the greasy bat of the dungeon." Harry sniggered and Ron joined him. Elizabeth just continued to glare.

She would be the first to admit that, from what she had seen of Professor Snape wandering the corridors, he didn't seem the most amicable of people. But she wasn't at Hogwarts to be his friend. Nothing was going to affect her love for the subject, certainly not a favouritism inclined, unfriendly tutor.

"Wish McGonagall favoured us," she heard Harry say over her thoughts. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor, but it sure hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the post arrived. Elizabeth had gotten used to this by now, and after years with the Weasley's demented bird Errol, post at Hogwarts was quite a relaxed affair. During breakfast owls would stream in and out of the Great Hall, circling tables searching for the owners; large packages tied to their ankles or letters in their beaks. None of these birds needed scraping off the castle windows, Errol's now rather, flat face was evidence he was not one of them.

Elizabeth had already received a package from Mrs Weasley and at least three letters from Ginny; two of those arriving the day after Elizabeth had gotten there. Today, however, Barney was missing from the flurry of owls, most likely resting in the owlery, nibbling at the treats she had left him.

Harry's owl, Hedwig, did however, land elegantly upon the table at which they sat. Fluttering down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl, and leaving a note on Harry's plate. Elizabeth watched as Harry tore it open, and suddenly realised this was the first post she had seen him get since they'd arrived. She assumed it must have been from family. She was wrong.

Dear Harry, and Elizabeth if she's with you (It said, in an untidy scrawl)

I know you both get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

Harry looked to her for confirmation, before borrowing Ron's quill and scribbling a hasty "yes please, see you later," on the back of the note and sending Hedwig off once more.

Elizabeth was intrigued by tea with the giant, but couldn't let her mind linger on it for too long as potions class turned out to be more interesting than she could have ever imagined.

The lesson took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder down there, and Elizabeth was grateful for that fact. Once the room was full of boiling cauldrons the heat could get unbearable, the already low temperature would help a lot. The walls were lined with shelves full of pickled animals floating in jars; Elizabeth was fascinated by each and every one of them; trying to remember what each was used for and make a mental note of those she did not already know, to research later.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the register. After taking a slight pause at her name; as though preparing himself for what came next, he, like Flitwick, stopped at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter, our new – celebrity."

Elizabeth shivered, Snape's tone made her uneasy. She didn't know why but Snape gave her the distinct impression that, unlike most teachers at Hogwarts, he was not particularly fond of their young saviour, and it seemed he didn't mind if people knew it.

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. She sent him a glare, but he just continued to smirk back at her; though something in his expression softened somewhat.

Snape finished calling their names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black, cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science that is potion making." He began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. Although, unlike the impressed silence that McGonagall commanded, Elizabeth could tell that Snape's was purely a silence of fear.

He continued, "as there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through the human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads I usually have to teach."

Elizabeth was transfixed. No matter how mean or scary Snape might be, his passion for the subject assured her that his class was going to be the one she enjoyed the most. More silence followed Snape's little speech. Elizabeth took a moment to look at her fellow classmates; Draco looked as impressed by Snape as she was, Neville looked simply terrified, Harry and Ron were sharing nervous looks and Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. Oh no, not this time. Elizabeth was not going to let this girl beat her at her own subject.

"Potter!" Snape snapped suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

She saw Harry glance at Ron, who looked as stumped as he did; Hermione's hand shot into the air.

Elizabeth knew Snape was referring to Harry, the whole class did; but after the past few days being all about her brother, Elizabeth decided it was about time to remind everyone there was more than one Potter. She answered.

"Draught of Living Death. It's a sleeping potion so powerful it can induce upon the drinker an indefinite sleep and is an extremely tricky potion to make correctly." she said facing forward and not even blinking at the sharp intake of breath and stares from everyone else in the room.

Snape froze. She could see the confusion on his face as he too came to the realisation, there was two of them. She saw a slight smirk start to edge its way onto his face. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Draco wink at her. It seemed he had seen this smirk before, and that it boded well for her, although, not so well for Harry, as was soon to be proved.

Ignoring Hermione's hand, Snape turned back to Harry. "Let's try again. MR. Potter, where would you look if I asked you to find me a Bezoar?"

Hermione's hand shot as high into the air as it would go with her leaving her seat, but it seemed Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a Bezoar was. The Slytherins were shaking with laughter, although Malfoy seemed expectant as to what Snape would do next; she had to admit she was thinking the same thing.

"I don't know, sir," Harry answered.

Snape's arm shot out, he was pointing straight at her. She had the feeling this was not going to end well. She answered again.

"The Bezoar is a stone that can be found in the stomach of a goat. It can act as an antidote to most poisons, but will not work on things such as Acromantula and Basilisk venom." She looked at Harry apologetically, as others looked at her either impressed or disappointed, in the fact she would allow Harry to be embarrassed in such a way.

"Thought you'd open a book before coming, eh, MR. Potter?" Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Mr. Potter, between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?" At this Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling. However, it seemed that this time Harry had an answer, and Elizabeth was grateful. That was until she heard the words that left her brothers mouth.

"I don't know," he said, frustrated. "I think Hermione does though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed, Elizabeth had to stop herself from slapping her forehead at her brother's idiocy; she had been right. This was not going to end well, Snape did not look pleased.

"Sit down," Snape hissed at Hermione. "For your information, Mr. Potter, Monkshood and Wolfsbane are the same plant, which also goes by the name of Aconite. I do believe your sister has proved something here, Mr Potter. Fame, clearly, isn't everything. Well... why weren't you all copying this down?"

There was a rummaging for quills and parchment, as Elizabeth sunk into her seat; rather aware of the few members of her house staring daggers at her back. She mouthed a sorry to Harry, who sent her a small grin, he didn't seem too angry with her. Not that he had a right to be. After all, Snape was right, if he had looked at his books before coming, none of this would have happened.

Over the noise of everyone trying to help each other remember everything they had just heard and the frantic scribbling of quill on parchment; Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for you cheek, Mr. Potter."

Things didn't improve for the rest of the Gryffindors as the potions lesson went on. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long cloak, Elizabeth now understood the bat element to his nickname, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs. Criticising almost everyone except her and Malfoy. She was sure he had put them together only so he could still be seen to be praising Slytherin. He was just telling everyone to look at the way their horned slugs were stewed to perfection, when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class were standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned as painful angry boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. Elizabeth made a decision, she would have to take the Fred and George approach with this young man.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as the boils started to pop up all over his nose. "Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. For what seemed like no reason, he then rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You- Mr. Potter- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he's make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor." Elizabeth had decided there was much more to Snape's dislike of Harry than met the eye, and she wasn't going to rest until she figured out what. If nothing else, her doing so may make potions class a little easier for her brother.

As they were all preparing to leave, Snape's voice sounded once more. "Miss Potter, stay a moment, the rest of you go."

Elizabeth gulped, she whispered a quick "I'll meet you in the entrance hall in a moment," to Harry and Ron, and with one last lingering look, they left the room, shutting the door behind them.

She waited. Snape was scribbling in a large ledger at his desk. A few moments later, when he was sure none of her classmates were straggling behind, he lifted his head to look at her. He seemed to examine her for a moment as if trying to figure her out, then turned back to his ledger and said, "five points will be added to Gryffindor, Miss potter, you may go."

Her jaw almost dropped, she looked at Snape trying to figure out why he was giving back the points he had just taken from Harry. This was a man, she was beginning to think, she would never figure out. It was only as she stood there dumbfounded, she realised she didn't want to give him the opportunity to change his mind. Therefore, after muttering a quick "Thank- you, Sir," she almost ran to the door and headed towards the entrance hall to meet her brothers.

At five to three, they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A crossbow and pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrambling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "back, Fang- back."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back- Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous, black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in a corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight to Ron and started licking his ears. Elizabeth couldn't help a chuckle, it seemed that what they said about pets and their owners was true; Fang, like Hagrid, was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate. "And I get the feeling you already know Elizabeth?" Harry said tentatively.

The giant stopped what he was doing. He looked at the small girl before him and, without warning, let out a large wail, like a wounded dog, and collapsed into a chair. Fang looked up from Ron's ears for a moment, realised it was just Hagrid and went back to his licking; much to Ron's displeasure.

"I tried ter find yeh, honestly I did...didn' know what ter do with meself...Dumbledore kept sayin'... yeh were jus' a baby... alone... in there!" by this point the giant was becoming incoherent. Harry was looking at her as if she would have all the answers to what in Merlin's name was going on, but she had no idea. Ron however was too busy trying to remove a hundred and fifty pounds of over affectionate, slobbery boarhound from his lap, and was paying no attention to anything else around him.

"Hagrid, what's wrong?" she asked gently.

"I couldn' find yeh! That bloody cupboard!" those three words was all it took for Elizabeth to understand. She remembered Professor Dumbledore telling her all about that tragic night, about Hagrid being sent to find Harry, but being unable to locate her. All of a sudden the reaction at the welcoming feast, and the events transpiring in front of her all made sense. Hagrid felt guilty.

She knelt down in front of him, taking his hand in both of hers. His hands, the size of dustbin lids, stood out, almost, comically against her small, delicate ones.

"Hagrid, now, you listen to me," the giant's sobs began to calm to sniffles as he looked down at her. "I am here, I'm fine. There was nothing more you could have done, I know that. You have nothing to be sorry for, and certainly nothing to feel guilty about. Now, that's the end of it, OK?" This was not a question. Hagrid's eyes still shimmered as he looked at her, but a large grin was making its way under his bushy beard. Before she even knew it was happening, Hagrid had picked her up in a bone-crushing hug. At that moment, she didn't care, she just hugged back as hard as she could.

At one point, she could have sworn she heard him whispered, "Jus' like yeh mother," but a few moments later she was popped back on her feet, and after blowing his nose in a handkerchief the size of a picnic blanket, Hagrid went back to making the tea as if nothing had happened. She sent both boys a look that clearly said, 'I'll tell you later'.

"So," Hagrid began, after clearing his throat, "another Weasley, eh? I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest." Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at this, she was well aware how true it was, she had been regaled with the stories countless times.

Hagrid's rock cakes lived up to their name, nearly breaking their teeth, but all three pretended to be enjoying them, so as not to make Hagrid upset twice on their first visit. They told Hagrid all about their first week at Hogwarts whilst Fang abandoned Ron's ears and was now resting with his head on Harry's knee, drooling all down his robes.

They were all delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch, "that old git."

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang some time. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her- Filch puts her up to it."

Harry told Hagrid all about Snape's lesson and Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to hate me," Harry said, Elizabeth couldn't bring herself to disagree.

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid "Why should he?" One thing Elizabeth was determined to find out.

"Hey," Ron piped up. "What did he keep you behind for anyway?" she should have known this was coming.

Elizabeth looked anywhere but at the rooms other three occupants as she said, in barely a whisper, "he gave me house points."

Both boys jaws dropped and Hagrid chuckled. "Did yeh give 'im reason to?" the giant asked. She stayed quiet and watched as the two boys pondered this for a moment.

"She did answer all his questions right," said Harry.

"And brewed one of the best cure boils potions in the class," added Ron, reluctantly.

"Well, there yeh go then. Whatever yeh think o' Snape, he's a fair teacher. Give 'im a chance." A few moments passed and they drank their tea in silence.

"How's yer brother, Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot- great with animals."

While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with Dragon's in Romania, Elizabeth noticed Harry pick up a piece of paper from under the tea cosy. It was a clipping from the Daily Prophet, she read over his shoulder:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31st July, widely believed to be the work of dark witches and wizards unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

"Hagrid!" said Harry. "That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might have been happening while we were there!"

There was no doubt about it, Elizabeth could tell, Hagrid was refusing to meet Harry's eyes. He grunted and offered them each another rock cake.

As they all walked back to the castle, pockets full of rock cakes they had been too polite to refuse, Elizabeth thought about all the questions she had from her first week at Hogwarts. Did Hagrid know more about the break-in than he was letting on? Was Neville, really, going to manage to survive first year? What was Snape's issue with Harry? And most importantly in her opinion, how had she managed to spend a whole week at Hogwarts, and still not have turned Dumbledore's beard an alarming shade of pink?