This is a pretty short chapter. Please, tell me if I made a mistake. This story will be updated on Sundays but I don't know if I'll be updating this weekly or every two weeks. I should probably do this every week if I have any hope of finishing this before my school year starts.

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Between the tall kid with the red hair and the girl with her hair in a plait."

"The one with the black ribbon in her hair?"

"Did you see her face?"

"Did you see her scar?"

Whispers followed Lucy from the moment she left her dormitory next day. People queuing outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at her, or doubled back to pass her in the corridors again, staring. Lucy wished they wouldn't, because she was trying to concentrate on finding her way to classes.

"Seriously, how does anyone find their way to class on time in this place! It's ridiculously complicated," Clary groaned.

"At least the greenhouse is easy enough to find," Lucy answered.

"Peeves and Filch aren't making this any easier, though. What I wouldn't do to have Rue's gifts right now."

"Why don't you get your brother to help us?" Ron asked.

"He's sulking a bit right now. He usually does when I don't listen to him." Clary rolled her eyes as she watched him enter the Great Hall. "He knew I wouldn't do it but he still thinks he has the right to be cross with me."

"At least we made it to the Great Hall without getting lost, for once," Lucy said, already scooping some eggs and bacon on her plate. Today, she would have the time to enjoy her meal. "What's on the schedule for today, Ron?"

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron with a scowl. "Snape's Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favoured us," said Lucy. Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn't stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

"You're just annoyed that she isn't apart of your fan club like Flitwick," Clary teased her with a grin.

"Shut up," Lucy said with an answering grin. "Or I'll turn your bed into a pig."

They giggled as they remembered their excitement before their first Transfiguration lesson. It might have been a little silly to think that they could change desks into pigs after their first lesson. Apparently, it was even sillier to imagine that they'd be able to transfigure their matches into needles by the end of the lesson. It was the end of their first week of school, and that had been the only bit of real magic they'd learned.

Just then, the post arrived. Lucy had got used to this by now, but it had given her a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps.

Hedwig hadn't brought Lucy anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble her ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Lucy's plate. Lucy tore it open at once.

Dear Lucy, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl)

I know you 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 us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid

Lucy borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled "Yes, please, see you later" on the back of the note and sent Hedwig off again.

It was lucky that Lucy had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because, despite her optimism, the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to her so far.

At the start-of-term banquet, Lucy hadn't got the idea that Professor Snape disliked her. By the end of the first Potions lesson, she knew she'd been right. Snape didn't dislike Lucy – he hated her.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the register, and like Flitwick, he paused at Lucy's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Lucy Potter. Our new – celebrity." Most of the Slytherins sniggered from behind their hands. Draco gave her a sympathetic look from behind Snape. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. Lucy wondered if she'd imagined that terrible sadness she'd seen in their depths.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of 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. "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 simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses ... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Lucy, Clary, and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. Lucy caught Draco yawning as if he'd heard this very speech dozens of times.

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

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Lucy glanced at Ron and Clary, who looked as stumped as she was; Hermione's hand had shot into the air.

I don't know, sir,' said Lucy.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Lucy didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. She tried not to look at Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter. Draco seemed to be trying to tell her the answer, but she couldn't read lips and he was all the way across the classroom.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Lucy forced herself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. She had looked through her books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect her to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling.

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

A few people laughed; Lucy caught Seamus's eye and Seamus winked. Even Draco couldn't stop himself from snorting a bit at that. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for your cheek, Potter."

Lucy barely stopped herself from saying "Only a point?"

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. 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 had somehow managed to melt Seamus's 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 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. We should learn how to do that in the first week! Lucy thought, taking in the spotless floor. "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 Seamus. Then he rounded on Lucy 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."

This was so unfair that Lucy opened her mouth to argue, but Ron kicked her behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," he muttered. "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

Clary's eyes were wide as she shook her head at Lucy from behind her and Hermione's cauldron.

Draco surreptitiously passed her a note on their way out. I didn't know the answer to the first question either and he's been trying to get me to memorise that book all summer!

She caught his eye and mouthed, "Thanks."

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Lucy's mind was racing and her spirits were still a little low. She'd lost two points for Gryffindor in her very first week – why did Snape hate her so much? She'd definitely imagined the deep sadness she'd seen that first day!

"Cheer up," said Ron. "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George –"

With good reason, I'm sure," Clary interjected.

"What do you have against my brothers?" asked Ron with a glare.

"Nothing against George or Percy," she answered.

"And Fred?"

"That's none of your business."

"Whatever," Ron rolled his eyes, giving up for now. "Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"

"Can I come, too?"

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 a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Lucy knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling 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.

Clary gave it a wary look as they entered, making sure to give it a wide berth.

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 at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked. Still, Clary made sure to stay sure to keep as far away from him as possible.

"This is Ron," Lucy told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes on to a plate. "And the one who can't sit still is Clary."

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the Forest."

The rock cakes almost broke their teeth, but Lucy, Clary, and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Lucy's knee and drooled all over her robes.

Lucy, Clary, and Ron were 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."

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

"But he seemed to really hate me."

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Yet Lucy couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet her eyes when he said that.

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

Lucy wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose.

While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Lucy picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

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

Gringotts' goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same 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.

Lucy remembered Ron telling her on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.

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

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Lucy's eyes this time. He grunted and offered her another rock cake. Lucy read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

As Lucy, Clary and Ron walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Lucy thought that none of the lessons she'd had so far had given her as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Lucy?

Review and tell me what you think! Problems? Opinions? Compliments? Let me know :) But here's the thing (and so begins my mini rant), if you're going to say something like "your characters are Mary Sues", please, give a good argument. Just saying they're Mary Sues isn't helping me (I know you're not trying to, but at least make an affective complaint). Also, have some clue what a Mary Sue is. I don't think I've made it a secret that my characters have flaws and fears, they are not omnipotent. Yes, Rupert is all seeing, but he's also a brat. They're kids, not super heroes. They will grow and change like everyone else. Just felt I had to say this.

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