"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair?"

"Which one? There are two with black hair."

"The green-eyed one."

"Oh, wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Danny was getting ticked off. Ever since they had left their dormitory, whispers were following them, all of which concerning Harry. People were grouping together outside of their classrooms to get a good look at him, people were pausing in the hallways just to turn around and pass him again, and people were just standing there, staring at him. Danny didn't particularly care about not being paid attention to; he and his friends had always been at the bottom of the social circuit. No, he was pissed because Harry wasn't some zoo animal that people could stop and stare at. He was a person who deserved his space and his privacy, just like any of them. Besides, they were making it difficult to get to class.

There were 142 staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump; some that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place; and some that weren't even really doors, but solid walls just pretending. And on top of all that, it was impossible to remember where anything was because it all moved around a lot. You couldn't rely on the portraits as landmarks because the people in them kept going to visit each other. And they were fairly sure that the coats of armor could walk.

Heh, I wonder what it would be like if there was a coat of ghost armor that could walk. I bet it would have a really cool sword! Danny thought as they passed yet another coat of armor.

The ghosts weren't much of a help either. It was extremely annoying to have one of them glide through a door you were trying to open; all the more so because Danny couldn't do the same thing without blowing his secret identity. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves was worth two locked doors and a trik staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop trash cans on your head, pull rugs out from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Danny's ghost sense would go off every time a ghost came close, and when Ron noticed it he and Harry decided to tell him that Danny had been exposed to some radiation when he was little and so was very attuned to ghosts. The two of them had decided not to tell him Danny's secret, at least not for the time being, only because they didn't want to place the burden of keeping the secret on him.

Even worse than Peeves, if that were even possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. The three friends managed to get on his bad side on their very first morning. He'd found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to lead to the forbidden third-floor corridor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, and was positive that they were trying to break into it on purpose and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Masters, who had been passing by at the time.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamplike eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd vanish in search of Filch, who'd appear two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone, except perhaps the Weasley twins. He could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts; in fact, perhaps more suddenly, due to the fact that Danny couldn't sense him coming. The students all hated him and it was the dearest ambition of many (and for some odd reason, Professor Masters) to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Professor Masters hated cats, though none of them knew quite why.

And then, once by some miracle you managed to find them, there were the lessons themselves. Harry and Danny quickly found out that there was a lot more to magic than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

Every Wednesday night at midnight, they had to study the night skies through their telescopes and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Harry and Ron usually relied on Danny for this, as he was particularly adept at this subject. They later found out that he had always wanted to explore space as a child, so it was natural for him to be interested in the stars.

Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, or the study of magical plants. They were taught by a dumpy little witch with gray flyaway hair named Professor Sprout, and they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and learned what they were used for.

Easily the most boring lesson was History of Magic, which was the only class taught by a ghost. Professor 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. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. The most interesting part of the class was when he entered the room through the blackboard, but even this was punctuated by the fact that Danny could sense him coming beforehand.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first lesson he took the register, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. Danny rolled his eyes while the rest of the class snickered.

Transfiguration was a different matter entirely. Professor McGonagall turned out to be strict and clever, and gave them a short speech the minute they had sat down in her first class.

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

She then proceeded to change her desk into a pig and back again. They stared in awe and couldn't wait to get started, but they realized quickly enough that they wouldn't be changing furniture into animals for a very long time. After taking a lot of complex notes, they were each given a match and told to try turning it into a needle. By the end of the class, only Hermione had made any changes to her match; Professor McGonagall showed everyone how it had turned silver and pointed, and gave Hermione a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Quirrell taught the first half of the class, but his lesson turned out to be a bit of a joke. He began by placing a sprig of garlic at the door, telling them that it was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. He told them that his turban had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you gift for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but none of them really believed this. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, there was a funny smell hanging around the turban that the Weasley twins asserted was due to the fact that it was stuffed with garlic, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

During the second half of the class, though, Professor Masters took over. He told them that of all the dark creatures he'd found, ghosts were by far the most fascinating. He warned them that not all ghosts were as kind as the Hogwarts ghosts; in fact, the majority of them were very powerful and malevolent. He brought forward a glowing green box, and when he opened it what appeared to be a glowing green octopus flew out.

"An ectopus," he explained. "Not very powerful, but it would still be wise of you to try and avoid one of these wherever possible." He pointed his wand at the ectopus and shot a beam of green light at it. The light struck the ectopus and made it explode and cover everyone in ghost goo. Everyone applauded, and Professor Masters bowed just as the bell rang.

Friday was an important day for Harry, Ron, and Danny. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What's up for today?" Danny asked as he poured milk into his cereal.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron replied. "Snape's head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them…we'll be able to find out if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," Harry lamented. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the mail arrived in the form of a hundred owls streaming into the Great Hall during breakfast and dropping letters and packages onto the laps of their owners. It had given all of them a shock on the first morning, but they were getting used to it by now.

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. Once in a while she'd fly in to take a bit of his toast before going to sleep in the owlrey with the other school owls. This morning, though, she landed in between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tore open the letter.

Dear Harry,

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.

Sincerely,

Hagrid

Harry borrowed Ron's quill and scribbled "yes, please, see you later" on the back of the note. Danny tossed Hedwig a piece of his cereal, which she easily caught in mid-air, and she flew off again.

It was lucky that they had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be that week's all-time low point. At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had thought that Professor Snape didn't like him. By the end of the first lesson, he'd realized that that was a bit of an understatement. Snape hated him.

The lesson itself took place down in one of the dungeons. The room itself was cold and creepy, not to mention the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Snape, like Flitwick, started by taking the refister, and also like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new…celebrity." Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Once Snape finished calling the names, he looked up at the class. His eyes were black, and held no traces of emotion. They were cold and empty.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began in a whisper. Despite that, they hung onto every word. "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 subtle 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 I usually have to teach."

Harry, Ron, and Danny all exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione looked as though she was ready to prove that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter," Snape said suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Harry looked at Danny, who looked just as confused as he felt. Hermione, on the other hand, immediately raised her hand.

"I don't know, sir." Harry said. Snape sneered.

"Tut, tut…fame clearly isn't everything." Danny smirked. Finally, here was someone who understood.

"What about you, Fenton?" Snape suddenly asked, and Danny paled. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Danny didn't have the foggiest idea of what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir." Danny said.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Fenton?" Danny felt his eyes begin glowing a hot green. "Look at me like that one more time, Fenton, and it'll be five points from Gryffindor." Danny took a deep breath and forced his eyes to revert back to normal. He opened them once again and found Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looking at him strangely.

"Potter," Snape called, and the four of them snapped back to attention. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know, " Harry said quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?" A couple of people laughed; Harry caught Danny's eye and Danny winked. Snape, however, wasn't pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is know 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 this down?" There was a shuffling noise as everyone rummaged around their bags for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said "and a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them 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 nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing 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' cauldron into a twisted blob and their potion was sweeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was 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," Snape snarled. He muttered 'evanesco' as he waved his wand at the spilled potion, and it vanished.

"I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the potion off the fire?" Neville whimpered as boils began to pup up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. He then rounded on Harry 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 unbelievably unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.

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

At five minutes to three, Harry, Danny, and Ron left the castle and made their way across the grounds. They approached Hagrid's small wooden house that was located on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

Danny knocked, and they heard a frantic scrabbling inside and several booming barks. Then, Hagrid's voice rang out saying, "Back, Fang. Back!"

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

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang." He let them in, all the while struggleing 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 the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yourselves at home," Hagrid said. He let go of Fang, who immediately ran over to Ron and started licking his ears.

"This is Ron," Harry introduced to Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a teapot and started putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh? I've spent half my life chasing your twin brothers away from the forest." His rock cakes almost broke their teeth, but Harry, Danny, and Ron pretended to enjoy them as they told Hagrid all about their first classes. Sometime during the recitation, Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and began drooling all over his robes. They were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch 'that old git'.

"And as for that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like to introduce her to Fang sometime. You know, every time I go up to the school she follows me everywhere! I can't get rid of her…Filch puts her up to it."

They told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape likes hardly any of his students.

"But he seemed to really hate me!"

"Rubbish!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Why should he?" But Harry got the feeling that Hagrid wasn't being totally honest when he said that.

"How's your brother Charlie?" Hagrid suddenly asked Ron. "I liked him a lot…great with animals." As Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While this was going on, Danny noticed a piece of paper lying on the table under the tea cozy. He picked it up and noticed that it was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:

Gringotts Break-In Latest

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on July 31, 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 of it if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts' spkesgoblin this afternoon.

"Hey, wasn't July 31st your birthday?" Danny asked Harry.

"Yeah, why?"

"That was the day we went to Diagon Alley, and also the day of the Gringotts break-in! It could've been happening while we were there!" Danny handed the article over to Harry. Both boys were thinking the same thing. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault 713, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

Danny, Harry, and Ron walked back up to the castle for dinner with their pockets weighed down by rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse. Danny and Harry silently agreed that none of the classes they'd had so far that week had given them as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Was the package the one that was meant to be stolen? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he wasn't telling?